From Pain to Love
by LiterarianRose2995
Summary: Voldemort is defeated during the Department of Mysteries Battle; there are no horcruxes. Voldemort's defeat doesn't save Hermione from the horror that is Antonin Dolohov's sexual sadism. She tries to heal, but she feels horrible for everything she does. Her salvation comes from the most unlikely person.
1. The Horror Commences

**Cannon-compliant until the Department of Mysteries Battle.**

**JKR gets all the credit for character and world creation; I'm just having some fun with her gift to us.**

**Trigger warning for rape and sexual assault. The first few chapters or so will be extremely dark. I am a sexual slavery survivor, and my path through the after will be portrayed.**

**Will eventually be HEA as much as possible, but recovering from sexual trauma is a never ending battle. Some days are better than others.**

**If you are in the States, please reach out to RAINN's hotline if you need to. They do amazing work. **

**This is my first ever fan fic, so please be nice. I know it is dark. I warned you. If it is not your thing, please move along.**

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Hermione hated that she was always right. Just once, she wouldn't mind being wrong. As she and her friends raced for their lives through the Department of Mysteries, she tried to focus on what she could do about her being right, which, of course, was absolutely nothing. The only thing she could do was throw out curses and shields to try to keep her and her friends alive. She hoped the others were okay. Somehow, they had gotten separated, and she was alone with Harry and Neville.

The Death Eater in front of them startled her out of her reverie. Harry and Neville protectively stepped in front of her, which was stupid considering she was the strongest duelest of the bunch. As Harry and Neville fought against the skilled Death Eater, Hermione's sense of dread started to overwhelm her. No Death Eater would be alone, nor would he be fighting defensively against two underage wizards who wouldn't use dark magic. Hermione heard a noise behind her, but as she spun, she heard a whispered _Imperio_, and her panic disappeared.

Hermione was still conscious of the world around her. She saw Harry and Neville winning the upper hand, but she didn't care. She stashed her wand in her forearm holster and walked away from the battle. Hermione walked towards a door and came face to face with Antonin Dolohov.

"I know you can't really take in what I'm saying, but I wonder what Potter will do without his Mudblood. I'm not going to just kill you. That would be too easy." Dolohov sidled up to Hermione, bring the back of his fingers down her cheek. "Avenging your death would just give little Potter more fuel." Dolohov's hand started down her chest and stomach. "No, I plan to destroy you from the inside. I'll destroy your strength, and you will keep it to yourself because you know the truth will destroy Potter and those pesty blood traitors." Dolohov started cupping her sex through her jeans and was thrilled that Hermione's body's natural response was to rock against his hand. "Let's see if they notice you gone."

And with that, Dolohov apparated them out of the Ministry and straight into his dungeon, specifically designed to torture witches.

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As soon as Dolohov entered his dungeon, his cock started to get hard. Honestly, he was surprised it took so long since he was excited to have his way with the Mudblood. Hermione still stood patiently waiting in her _Imperiod_ state, and he was growing impatient with her silence. He wanted her to cry. He wanted to hear her scream. To do that, though, he would first have to restrain her. He just had to think of what way he wanted to take her first.

His gaze went to his modified St. Andrew's Cross. He loved this certain toy, and the modification of it. A witch's instinct is to pull away from her attacker. (He did not delude himself into thinking he was a lover to any of the witches he brought down here.) If a witch wanted to pull away from him, she would be forced to further impale herself on the dildo he had attached to the cross. Now, the dildo would be in the witch anyways, but she would be forced to push it further in to get even a smidgeon away from him. He smiled, knowing where he wanted to torture Hermione first.

Dolohov barely had to think about Hermione stripping herself, and she was immediately doing so. He thought of which hole he wanted to fuck and decided on all of them. He would take them all first, and then he would see he Crabbe Sr and Goyle Sr wanted a go. Of course they would. The Mudblood bitch had to be a virgin. They would show her what it felt like to have a cock stuffed in every hole.

He grinned as Hermione looked blankly at him. Soon, he would get to hear her scream. He ordered her into the dungeon bathroom and enjoyed the view of her pert, round ass as she walked inn front of him. He could order her to bend down and spread her cheeks, but he chose to slam her upper body down onto the counter and then order her to spread her cheeks. She did so without a fight, and he smiled. She would be fighting soon, but she would be bound and couldn't do anything.

Dolohov conjured up an enema bag filled it with uncomfortably warm water. Without mercy, he shoved the nozzle up her ass. Hermione's body naturally resisted and tried to pull away, but as soon as Dolohov gave the order to be still, Hermione froze. He squeezed the enema bag to fill her faster, and when her stomach was protruding and the bag was empty, he pulled the nozzle out.

He immediately gave the order to stand in front of the St. Andrew's Cross. Again, Dolohov took in the view of the Mudblood bitch as she walked. He lined up the dildo attached to the cross with her ass after coating the dildo with the bare minimum of lube. He didn't want the effort of putting it in Hermione unlubricated. The little bit of lube allowed him to slam her back onto the dildo, and he smiled when she involuntarily gave a gasp. Dolohov had perfected his _Imperio_ to control the body and empty the mind, but to still allow the body to naturally react. As Dolohov secured Hermione's arms and legs, his cock got even harder. Soon, he would get to hear her whimper in pain and beg for freedom. He released the _Imperio_, and watched as Hermione went limp in her binds. The unconsciousness was short lived as Dolohov pointed his wand at Hermione's chest and whispered "_rennervate_."

Hermione blinked open her eyes in confusion. Her stomach hurt something fierce, and she figured her need for a bowel movement was what had awakened her. Even though she didn't remember leaving the ministry, she figured she had gotten injured and was in the Hospital Wing recovering. She desperately wanted to know what had happened, but she really needed to relieve herself first. That's when she became away of three things: she was naked, her arms and legs were bound, and there was something stretching her asshole. In a blind panic, Hermione looked at her wrists and yanked with all her might over and over again.

"That won't help, little Mudblood." Dolohov said from in front of her, causing Hermione's panic to rise as she realized just how much danger she was truly in. She knew begging was what Dolohov wanted, but she couldn't stop herself.

"Please, please let me go. I won't turn you on. No one has to know. Dump me in Hogsmeade. Please. I'll find my own way back to the castle. Just please!"

Dolohov smirked. The Mudblood played right into the game. Witches always looked prettier when they were begging. Too bad she wasn't on her knees begging, yet.

"Why would I let you go? Besides, I don't think you could handle the pressure of Apparating; it might make you sully your pants" Dolohov chuckled. "Oh wait, that's right. You don't have anything on."

Hermione by this point had stopped struggling. The movement just made her have to poop more, and she was terrified of what would happen if she made a mess. It was time for a new tactic.

"Please. Okay. You don't have to let me go." Hermione silently added _for now_. "But please let me go to the bathroom. I really need to go. Please. I need to." She started to shout please at Dolohov as he started to walk away. "Please. I don't want to make a mess! I'll do anything."

Dolohov couldn't help but to grin. Witches were so quick to bargain when they had a full enema in them and they couldn't go. He continued to walk away, but he knew that her anything would be his dick in her throat. Thank Merlin for magic. He would simply levitate and rotate the cross so he had access to her mouth.

Hermione was screaming please between whimpers of pain. She was starting to think he would let her intestines explode. She knew bargaining anything was stupid, but she had nothing to give. Harry and Ron would be lost if she didn't return. She watched as Dolohov stopped and turned, her eyes immediately flying to his crotch as his hands worked his belt and fly.

Dolohov stalked over to her, "You should not have said anything, Mudblood. For the price of you… relieving yourself… I exact your throat around my cock." As he got closer, Hermione shrunk back, only to yelp and move towards him.

"What have you done to me?" Hermione had never felt this kind of urgency in her bowels, and she was sure that if it weren't for whatever was in her ass, she would be making a messy on the floor.

Dolohov reached a hand forward and laid it flat on her stomach and pushed, hard. Hermione gasped and then groaned in pain. The pressure made her stomach gurgle, but more importantly, it thrust the thing in her ass further up it. "Oh, I simply filled you up with water. I plan on fucking you in every hole. And while I will get myself dirty with muddy blood, I have no intention of getting myself dirty with your waste."

Hermione was whimpering and crying. Dolohov thought it made her look gorgeous. He gave her stomach one last hard shove, and then levitated the cross to rotate it.

"If you want the pain in your stomach to stop, you will take my cock down your throat. This is non-negotiable."

Hermione's eyes widened in fear. She would be strong. She would survive. Harry and Ron needed her. She shook her head, but she knew she would do it. As the cross rotated, the binds on her wrists and ankles started to cut into her, causing her to whimper in pain yet again. As the cross settled parallel to the floor, her whimpers were cut off by a scream as Dolohov grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head up. She was greeted by his weeping cock, and she instantly tried to recoil. There was no way she was going to be able to take that, in any of her holes.

"Open up, Mudblood. It's time for you to show me what you can do. When the Dark Lord wins, if you survive, maybe I will keep you as a slave." Dolohov smirked down at her, watching her scrunch her eyes closed and lock her jaw shut. That just wouldn't do.

"Open your mouth, bitch." Hermione opened her eyes and looked at him with nothing short of defiance. "I thought you wanted to shit. If I'm wrong. I'll just fuck your cunt. If I'm right, open your mouth."

That statement got Hermione to loosen her jaw a bit, but she still didn't open it. She knew she needed to, and that him fucking her… taking her virginity… would be vastly worse if she also needed to shit. As she was thinking, Dolohov kicked her stomach, and she screamed, only to be cut off by him slamming his cock into her mouth.

"That's it, Mudblood. Take my cock. Move your tongue. I want to feel you." Dolohov was delighted. Hermione was in pain, and her whimpers massaged him. He started to thrust in and out of her mouth, going a bit deeper every time. Soon, he was starting to enter her throat.

Hermione looked up at Dolohov with tears streaming down her face. The kick hurt and was unnecessary. He could have twisted her hair to make her scream, but no, he had to cause the most pain possible. She could feel him stabbing her throat, and she couldn't help but to gag. That only seemed to please him and he grunted. Hopefully, he would cum soon.

"Once you get your little snooty nose pressed tight against my stomach… I'll let you relieve yourself." Dolohov smiled. He loved this game. He started thrusting harder into Hermione's mouth and was excited to get further into her throat. As he thrust further into her throat, her nose maybe 2 inches from his pubes now, he cast a silent Engorgio on the dildo. He wanted Hermione stretched out.

Hermione yelled around Dolohov's cock. The bastard must have cast a spell on the thing in her ass to make it bigger. She could feel her little asshole stretching, causing her so much pain. Her yells turned louder when it grew more.

"If you keep yelling instead of sucking, I'll make it bigger." Dolohov ground out as menacingly as possible while feeling the pressure of Hermione's mouth. She immediately started sucking and moving her tongue along the underside of his cock. It didn't matter, though. He still planned to make it a tad bigger.

Hermione groaned in protest around Dolohov. He said he wouldn't make it bigger if she actually sucked his cock. She was questioning her sanity when she realized that she thought a Death Eater, let alone her rapist, would be honourable. Instead of being upset, well overly upset, she tried to focus on the task at hand. Dolohov said that she could go to the bathroom when her nose was against his stomach. She didn't trust him, especially since her ass was burning from being stretched, but she had to believe that he would let her go, if only so he didn't kill her by accident.

"That's it, bitch. You're almost there." Dolohov ground out as he felt her throat constrict around him. He thrust hard into her mouth and bottomed out. He heard Hermione audibly sigh when she realized her nose was pressed against him. Then, she stared at him in horror as she heard him start laughing.

Hermione screamed around Dolohov when she felt her ankle binds come undone and her entire body below her shoulders crashed into the floor. She didn't mean to, but the anal stretching caused her to lose some of the water. Her asshole had been stretched too wide for it to close quickly As soon as she could, she clenched her ass, but water still trickled out, and the pain was worse.

She stared at Dolohov in horror. She was terrified of retribution for making a mess, and it was getting harder to breathe.

Dolohov wrapped his hand in her hair even more. "I told you that you could relieve yourself when your nose touched my stomach. You may do so now."

Dolohov knew she would fight it, but also knew that she would fail. The pressure was too much. He looked down into the Mudblood's eyes are saw her imploring him to let her use a real bathroom. He just started fucking her throat harder, hoping that she would get the message. She didn't. She was crying and whimpering and groaning. She kept shifting her weight between her bruised knees, trying to deal with the pain.

Dolohov tired of her antics. "I gave you the option of painless release. You didn't take it. Time to learn to take the mercies I give you, Mudblood." She stared at him in horror not understanding, even more confused when he tore his cock out of her throat. She sputtered and started to beg, but her begs quickly turned to wails of agony.

Dolohov was kicking her in the stomach. Hermione tried to keep it in, but she was in so much pain. She needed to go, and the kicking hurt worse because she had to go. When Dolohov kicked her the hardest that he had yet to do so, she finally released. Her screams of pain covered the noise of water splashing out of her onto the floor, and for that small mercy, she was thankful.

Dolohov walked away from her and smiled. The room had enchantments to instantly clean up bodily fluids that came in contact with any of its surfaces, so he wasn't worried about the mess. He would scourgify Hermione, and then he would take her.

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**The next chaoter will be coming soon. It is basically already done. **


	2. Lashing for Blood

**Okay, the story is back. I actually wrote this chapter at the same time as the first, but I though a little break from trauma might be in order.**

**This chapter**** features whipping. That was my "master's" (read: rapist's) favorite punishment. I can feel the whip like it was yesterday. Hermione gets wet from it. It happens. It does not mean she likes it, but it will confuse her.**

**Also, I created a Facebook page for my writing. Go check it out at LiterarianRose FanFic. Thanks ever so much. **

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Hermione cried. She was never going to survive this. She was the brightest witch of her age, and she was strong. But she was not nearly strong enough to survive a sexual sadist. If he ever let her go, she would just want to kill herself. If Dolohov didn't kill her for the mess she made… even though he forced it.

"Aren't you happy I let you go, Mudblood." Dolohov said over his shoulder from across the room. He also cast a scourgify.

Hermione was disgusted with him and with herself, but she had a feeling he wanted a thank you. At the very least, she should thank him for cleaning her of her mess Though she knew she would want to die, she still wanted to see Harry and Ron one last time. Maybe her parents, but it would be better if they thought she died in a magical accident. So she would play Dolohov's game.

"Yes." Hermione stammered out while staring at the floor.

Dolohov was instantly upon her yanking her hair. "When I ask you a question, Mudblood bitch, you will look at me and you will call me one of three things: master, sir, or daddy. I prefer daddy since I love destroying a witch's innocence and protecting innocence is what a daddy should do. But I will leave the choice to you."

Hermione whimpered and slowly raised her eyes to his face. She didn't want to say it. He had no right. But no, he had every right. She was quite literally strung up in his basement. This was his game. With great reluctance, she whispered out a "thank you, daddy."

Dolohov deemed that as defiance. "When I tell you to look at me and speak, I mean speak. Not whisper." He twisted her hair, causing her upper body to twist as much as it could while still restrained. "Answer me nicely and properly, and I may lube your ass before I take it."

Hermione's scalp was throbbing, but she did manage to take in most of what Dolohov said. Loudly and staring him in the eye she said, "thank you, daddy." Even though calling him daddy made her want to vomit.

"Accio, whip."

Hermione screamed. "No! Please! Don't whip me. I'm sorry…. Please!"

"You Mudblood bitch. You don't learn. I was only going to whip you ten times for not thanking me for what I let you do." Dolohov rotated the cross upright and reinstated her ankle binds. The dildo had not lined up properly to re-enter her, but he would fix that. "But defying me what I deem necessary for your insubordination will add another ten. For refusing to use any proper term I had JUST given you, that is another ten. Would you like to add any more to your 30?"

Hermione thought her tears would never dry, she was sobbing uncontrollably. She slowly looked at him and shook her head no. She hoped that would appease him, she didn't know if she could talk through the tears.

Dolohov was immensely pleased that she chose not to talk. That meant that he could whip her even more. "There is no way that you are the brightest witch of your age." Dolohov scoffed. "Mudblood, you just added ten more. If I ask you a question, I expect an appropriate answer. Would you like to add any more hits with the whip to your 40."

Hermione stared at him in horror. She knew the whips were going to hurt. "No, daddy. 40 hits should be enough."

Dolohov sighed. He had hoped she would be defiant. Instead, she seemed resigned and she minded her orders. "We will start now. After every ten, you will thank me for the pain. If you don't thank me for the pain I have caused, we will start completely over. Do you understand me."

"Yes, daddy. I understand." Hermione stared at him. Dolohov grinned; he loved being thanked for pain.

Dolohov moved right in front of her and bent down. "Before we start, do you want the dildo in your ass or your Mudblood cunt? I ask out of decorum, but I will decide."

Hermione groaned in frustration. She didn't want it in her at all, especially if it was the size it was when it came out of her. But… she had already had it in her ass, she had never had anything bigger than a tampon in her vagina. Hermione sighed, knowing what her option would be.

"I would like it in my…. Ass, daddy."

Dolohov stared at her in shock. He was going to put it in her ass anyways, but he was shocked that she chose it. Then, he realized his suspicion was correct. The Mudblood know-it-all was a virgin. He was thrilled.

"You forgot to say please, Mudblood." And with that, with no lube or preparation, Dolohov picked her up slightly, lined up the enlarged dildo, and slammed Hermione down onto it. Her screams were music to his ears.

"Pleaseeeeee. Please take it out. I think I'm bleeding. Pleaseeee. It hurts" Hermione wailed. She couldn't even see Dolohov she was crying so hard.

"You forgot your manners, Mudblood. We will start with the whipping so we are at a nice even 50. Don't forget to thank me for the pain."

Hermione screamed "yes, daddy" as the first hit of the whip landed across her stomach. She knew she wouldn't stop screaming for quite some time. The hits we're all centered on her stomach, and even as she screamed, she was thankful that he had let her relieve herself before this happened. She was NOT thankful that he put the dildo in her ass, as every time he whipped her, she jerked around on it. To her horror, her vagina was starting to get wet.

Dolohov got to ten and stopped. It took 30 seconds before Hermione realized that the whipping had stopped. She whimpered, stared him in the eyes, and thanked her "daddy" for the pain. Hermione thought Dolohov would cum in his pants, he looked so pleased with her. Before she could register that he had lifted the whip, he laid the next hit across her ample yet firm tits.

Each hit made Hermione scream in agony. She was thankful he didn't hit her nipples every time, but when he did, she thought she would die from pain. It took her nearly a minute this time to thank Dolohov for the pain.

The next ten came and landed vertically across her torso. Sometimes, the whip would wrap around her shoulders. The jerking on the dildo continued, and Hermione could feel her vagina getting slicker. She prayed that Dolohov didn't notice. He would think she enjoyed the pain and humiliation.

When he stopped, she stared at him through streaming eyes and thanked him for the pain. He laughed. "That's not all you are getting, though, Mudblood. I can see your cunt glistening. I think it needs a good lashing. No need to thank me for these. I doubt you will be conscious by the end of it."

Hermione stared at him in horror, them threw her head back in a blood-curdling scream as the lash landed across her crotch. She yanked up on her arms to get away, but Dolohov shoved her down. Causing the dildo to enter into her ass even more, making her scream turn into a stuttered moan.

Dolohov continued this routine. Half way through, Hermione wasn't sure she knew her name. Dolohov was right, she would be unconscious by the end of it.

Dolohov paused after the tenth hit to her cunt and didn't push her back down on the dildo. He wanted to see her impale herself. Though he told her she need not thank him for this pain because she would be unconscious, he wanted her conscious through every hit. He didn't want to have to rennervate her before he took her cunt.

Hermione was confused. He had stopped, but she didn't think that was all of them. Her arms were exhausted, but she didn't want to let herself down on the dildo. That would be like admitting she liked it, even though she very much did not.

She stared at Dolohov, whimpering and crying the whole time. Her arms were starting to shake. She couldn't hold herself up much longer. From her peripheral vision, she saw Dolohov fisting his cock. She shuddered. He enjoyed her pain.

Dolohov groaned. Ever so slowly, the Mudblood was lowering herself into the dildo. Her cunt was red and glistening. The whipping had only made her wetter. When she moaned, Dolohov's eyes flew from Hermione's crotch to her face. He could see the pain, but he could also see the forced ecstasy.

Hermione wanted to die right then, in that very moment. Her arms were giving out. She fought valiantly, but her arms just couldn't hold her. She knew she sounded like a cat in heat with her gasps and moans, but she couldn't help it. The pain was overwhelming her system. She could feel her slickness starting to drip down her thighs. The dildo slowly entering her was agonizing, and she thought maybe fast and rough impalement might go better.

Dolohov watched on and could almost hear the wheels in the Mudblood's head spinning. he didn't expect to watch her heave a giant sigh and release her arm muscles. The stuttered and scratchy scream she released was expected for her actions, but a surprise due to her willingness to slam herself down on the dildo.

"Are you ready for your last ten, Mudblood?"

Dolohov rasped after she had quieted down slightly.

Hermione couldn't even think straight, but she knew something was expected of her when he talked. She whipped her head up, stared at Dolohov, and with as much Gryffindor courage as she could manage, said "yes, daddy." Hermione's mind raced, maybe she could make the hits softer. "Please whip your Mudblood's cunt."

Dolohov chuckled at her attempts to please him. Her attempt was well-done, but she did not know the fire she was playing with. He wouldn't kill her, but her pleasing him with her words just made him want to watch her bleed.

Dolohov brought the whip up in the hardest hit yet right across her slit. Hermione tried to scream, but her voice was obviously hoarse as her mouth opened in a wail and nothing more than a rasp came out.

Hermione had never felt such pain. She didn't want to imagine what was in store for her if this was the beginning. He didn't do the last ten lashes on her vagina, and she was thankful for that, but he instead took to her entire front. Whenever a hit landed in a spot that was already sporting a very angry welt, blood started to seap out.

The last lash landed across her right nipple and went diagonally across her stomach. Hermione wanted to scream, but she was barely hanging onto conscious. She could feel the dildo deep in her ass and her juice dripping down her thighs, but she simply couldn't care. She sagged in her binds.

Dolohov approached her and grabbed her chin. Hermione saw the glint of something on his hand and started, thinking it was a knife. She immediately settled when she realized it was a vile of some kind. She hoped it was a healing potion but was not that daft. Dolohov pinched the sides of mouth, digging her cheeks into her teeth.

"Open your mouth, bitch, and take your medicine."

Hermione immediately complied. He would get the potion into her anyways, minus well not fight anymore. Her Gryffindor courage had deserted her. All that was left was her desire to survive, if only to die in peace.

As soon as the potion passed Hermione's lips, she retched, but she did manage to swallow and keep it down. Dolohov had given her a Pepper-Up potion...


	3. Hermione Gets Burnt

**This chapter will contain anal rape through an object and vaginal rape. Please keep in mind that I have made Dolohov a sexual sadist. He will hurt her physically during the rape, but he also wants to destroy her mind. There will be forced orgasms.** **Please**** practice self-love/care while reading this story. It will get easier to read as it goes on, but for now, the story is showcasing the darkness of the world that too many people live in.**

**Crabbe Sr. is maybe out of character... okay, probably out of character. It's what I needed to drive the plot. **

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Dolohov smirked at Hermione as her brain became fully aware once more.With her brain fully functioning, she would feel every welt; she would be able to understand the horror that was to come.

Hermione was terrified. Giving her a Pepper-Up potion was one of the worst things Dolohov could have done. Her body was rife with pain, causing her to squirm in her binds, which really just caused more pain stemming from her ass. She had little to no belief that she would make it out of this dungeon with her mind intact. The defiant, brave Gryffindor princess was dead. She died the moment she woke up tied up in Dolohov's basement.

Begging was fruitless, but she could not help herself. She started whimpering and begging for Dolohov to release her. Hermione's words only stopped when Dolohov's fist met her stomach. Her body slumped in on itself as much as possible, but it did little to quell the pain.

"I will release you" stated Dolohov as we watched Hermione's eyes light up with hope. "from your binds." Hermione's hope left immediately. "But, you must do something for." Dolohov was pleased to see that Hermione looked properly terrified as he walked over to a wooden spanking horse with a neck and wrist stockade attached perpendicularly at one end. "I want you to walk over here like a good Mudblood bitch and get into this without a fuss."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. She shouldn't have been surprised that Dolohov wished for her to be in a different position, but she was scared of this new one. The horizontal bar of the horse was slightly tipped towards the ground. The angle would cause her ass to be in the air, exposed. She looked up from the horse to Dolohov and saw that he was staring at her expectantly. Her bleeding torso, breasts, and vulva reminded her to obey.

"Yes, daddy. I will behave. I won't fight. I'll go where you want me." Her voice was strong, though it was raspy and you could hear the fear.

Dolohov smiled and released all the binds. "Then come here."

Hermione collapsed; the dildo sliding out of her as her knees and palms hit the ground, hard. She whimpered in pain and craddled her hands to her chest while sitting back on her heels. Suddenly, a loud crack sounded through the dungeon.

"Now, bitch. Or does your back need to learn the feel of the whip."

Hermione scrambled to stand on her shaking legs. "No, daddy. I'm sorry Daddy."

Ever so slowly, Hermione worked her way towards Dolohov. She paused beside the horse, then positioned herself slightly behind it to climb up and put her shins on the leg support.

Dolohov gave her a wicked grin. She was so scared, and yet he could smell her unwanted arousal permeating the air. He was excited to watch her debase herself on this machine. Dolohov was, however, growing tired of her slow pace. He raised the whip and lashed her harshly across her ass.

"Put yourself in the stock. As soon as your neck touches the wood, it will secure you until I deem otherwise." Hermione was grabbing her ass and trying to hold back sobs. She watched him raise the whip again, ready to strike her, but she slammed herself into the stocks. She groaned as the stocks slammed tight around her and the wood magically tightened around her wrists and neck.

"If you thought I was fucking you, Mudblood, you were wrong. The time for that has not yet come. I wish to watch you cum."

Hermione couldn't see him, and she hated it. She just knew he had something horrid planned. It was probably in his hand right now.

"This toy is coated in an aphrodisiac. It will make you cum. However, I have also laced it with chilli oil. You will cum, but you will be in pain. That is the only way you will cum while I have you here."

At his words, Hermione bucked. She knew she was stuck; that's what stockades did. But she could not allow chilli oil inside of her. She would have chemical burns!

Dolohov chuckled. Her screams were magical. To be sure he wouldn't be kicked, he bound her legs to the horse with leather. He them stepped up behind her upturned ass. Hermione felt pressure against her pussy and screamed for Dolohov to stop.

"Oh, you want to wait on your cunt? I suppose I could be willing to do that, for a price."

Hermione hated Dolohov. If she ever got her wand in hand again, he was dead. She didn't want to pay any of his sick prices, and she knew that not having the "toy" in her pussy meant it would go in her ass, rather than the pain you kind of know than the pain you don't know at all, though.

Dolohov started pushing the toy into her, and she instantly felt the burn of the chilli oil radiate up inside her. The lips of her vagina wee on fire.

"Stop! please, daddy. Stop! wh..what is your price."

Dolohov smacked her ass for the fun of it, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to smart.

"Ahhh, Mudblood. I am glad you are learning." Dolohov started harshly kneading the flesh of her ass, silently thanking Hogwarts' stairs for providing Hermione a fleshy, round ass. "I was going to fuck your cunt with the toy until you came screaming, but if you don't want it in your cunt... I will allow you to have it in your ass, but you will be fucking the toy. I will hold it still, and you will ride it." Hermione stilled in complete dread. All this while, Dolohov had been twisting the toy roughly into her clit. Only the horror of being forced to fuck her own ass had still her shifting.

"What will it be, whore? Do you wish to feel the burn in your cunt and just get to lay there? or do you wish to cum from fucking your ass back on the toy? All the while knowing that you will feel immense pain and still gush in orgasm."

Dolohov simply couldn't resist. While the game was fun, and he knew she would choose to fuck her ass simply because she had felt the pain of stretching her ass before, he wanted to see her squirm from the chilli oil being deep in her cunt. Without warning and without ceremony, he slammed the toy deep into her cunt. He barely noticed the resistance simply because he slammed into her so hard.

Wails or pain and terror were wrenched from deep in Hermione's chest. "Nooooo!! Please, daddy! Please! My ass!"

Dolohov ripped the toy of her Hermione's cunt. "As you wish, Mudblood. You better ride it well, or I will simply pour chilli oil into your ass and fuck the aphrodisiac potion deep inside your cunt."

Hermione was squirming in pain from the chilli oil, but she could also feel her cunt drooling even more. She felt Dolohov line the dildo up with her ass, felt the burn of chilli oil, and screamed when he shoved it halfway into her ass.

"That's all I will do for you, bitch. You will fuck yourself to orgasm now."

Hermione sobbed while starting to move her hips. She started arching her back causing the dildo to slightly withdraw only to be thrust back in when she lowered her hips again. She hung her head and hoped that was enough for Dolohov. The aphrodisiac potion would ensure she would orgasm, even though it felt like there were fires inside both her vagina and her ass.

Suddenly, the toy was removed from her ass. She questioned why but quickly got her answer as she felt the lips of a bottle against her ass.

"I surely hope you give better rides than that, Mudblood. All you bitches are good for are cum buckets for us Purebloods. Will you fuck yourself properly, or do I need to motivate you with some chilli oil?"

Hermione wailed. "I'm sorry! I'll do better, daddy! I promise! Put it back in me. I'll fuck myself proper. I swear!!!!"

Dolohov knew the threat of more fire would motivate her, but he still wanted to put her through more pain.

"If you didn't wait chilli oil poured in your ass, you should have done it proper the first time. Now, you may fuck yourself up the ass with a chilli oil enema." With that, Dolohov upturned the bottle and emptied the remaining 6 ounces up her ass. He knew that the chilli oil would work its way up her bowels simply because of the position she was in. Her fucking herself up the ass would only cause it to be rubbed into the walls of her ass causing even more pain.

The screams of agony that met the air were extraordinary. As her screams grew louder, he shoved the toy 75% of the way up her ass.

"Fuck yourself, right, Mudblood. Hopefully the fire will motivate you."

And with that, Hermione was rocking her hips back and forth, up and down, and in a circle. She was screaming and keening. Her cunt drooling down her legs, dripping onto the floor. She felt like her insides were on fire all the way up to her throat. All she wanted was for the torment to end.

Dolohov wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped it. As soon as the Mudblood came, he would slam the toy all the way into her ass and shove his cock in her cunt. He knew it wouldn't be long. Though he could tell she was pain, her screams of pain were becoming screams of ecstasy. Instead of moving her hips in every which way in her attempt to fuck herself proper, she was pushing her ass back onto the toy, rotating her hips to massage her asshole.

Dolohov listened intently, he would hear it in her voice when she started to cum. He was right. Her screams halted, breath caught in her throat. He could feel the pulsing of her body through the toy into his hands. He watched her cunt as it erupted. Hermione Granger had her first orgasm while her torso and cunt were bleeding from being whipped, her ass on fire from chilli oil, and fucking herself up the ass.

Dolohov slammed the toy into her ass and shoved his cock into her cunt. The pulsating of her pussy walls was almost too much. He had been denying his orgasm for too long. He had wanted to cum down her throat, but had held off. Now, with her pussy clenching around him, he erupted into her just as she was becoming aware of herself again.

"Nooooo! You can't! You can't cum in me!" Hermione was screaming. She could feel him cumming deep inside her. All other thoughts of pain and torment were shoved out of her head by the sole thought of falling pregnant.

Dolohov heaved a sigh and grabbed Hermione's hips so hard that bruises were immediately forming.

Hermione froze. Her body was exhausted. Her mind was racing. She was a logical person, and she saw no logical way out of this nightmare. Dolohov was no idiot, he would have very strong wards up against the Light or people of undeclared loyalties. He had said that he had no intention of killing her, just breaking her... she felt thoroughly broken. She had just had her virginity, in every sense of the word, stolen. She had been whipped until she was bleeding and then some. She had orgasmed even though she was in immense pain. What did that make her?

"Enjoying the feel of my cum dripping out of your cunt, Mudblood?" Dolohov said as he unceremoniously ripped the toy from her ass. He watched in pleasure as the chilli oil he had poured in her trickled out of her. He had stretched her ass so badly that it wouldn't close. No matter, it would return to it's original tightness soon enough.

Hermione whimpered and started to say yes (she had figured out that pleasing him worked for her a little bit), but Dolohov's scream wrecked the air. She whipped her head towards Dolohov in terror just as she heard a crack of Apparition, the thundering of footsteps down a staircase, and the door being blast open.

"Dolohov! He... what the fuck?!? You've been down here fucking the Mudblood while our Dark Lord battled for his life!"

Hermione couldn't place the Death Eater standing in the dungeon. She thought it might be Crabbe Sr or Goyle Sr, but all she felt was shame. Shame for being naked, bound, bleeding, and dripping cum.

Dolohov was on the floor craddling his left forearm with a look of terror on his face.

"It's gone. How could that be?"

Crabbe Sr. marched over to Dolohov, all while staring at Hermione. "That's why I came. We need to flee. The Dark Lord has been defeated. We will be tried for terrorism. Let's go."

Dolohov weakly stood and stared at Crabbe as he walked behind Hermione. She was elated to hear that the Dark Lord had been vanquished, but she was also terrified of what that meant for her. Would Dolohov keep her as a slave indefinitely because Harry didn't need her broken?

She was torn out of her reverie as she felt Crabbe's touch on her swollen, sore asshole and his hand go to her clit. Crabbe was perverted like Dolohov, and he wanted to force her to cum before they released her.

Hermione started to whimper. The aphrodisiac potion was still rushing through her blood stream. Crabbe's touch was making her pussy start drooling all over again. Although the chilli oil still burned, it was only an afterthought at this point. Hermione had grown slightly accustomed to the pain in the short time she'd been down here.

Crabbe continued to work her clit, and as he felt her start to cum, he shoved 3 fingers in her ass, causing her to scream in pain.

"We should keep her. She'll keep our dicks warm while we are on the run."

"No, Dolohov." Crabbe glared at him. How stupid could Dolohov be, thinking that they would be able to keep the Mudblood under control while on the run. "We will dump her by the Shrieking Shack." Crabbe stated as he wiped off his fingers on Hermione's back.

Hermione froze. They were letting her go! Then, a new thought caused terror to go racing through her heart. Would they clothe her? Would they give her back her wand? She opened her mouth to beg, but immediately slumped down. Crabbe had cast a _stupefy_ on her.

"We...We... We can _Imperius _her! Crabbe! You see how responsive she is to touch! Think of the fun we could have."

"I will not think, Dolohov. We will run. That is all." Crabbe released Hermione's binds, conjured her clothes onto her body, and grabbed her by her hair. "I will come back. Then we will flee."

With that, Crabbe apparated to the Shrieking Shack with Hermione.

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**Please let me know what you think. If you need to talk to someone, please reach out through my Facebook Group for this story, "LiterarianRose FanFic." I am always here for you if something I wrote was triggering for you. **


	4. Exam or Nightmare

**The rapes are over, for now. There will be flashbacks and nightmares. Some of the nightmares won't be of what happened, but it will be horrible.**

**Hermione deals with rape how I did. I am putting myself as a victim and survivor into her. She will struggle. Please don't tell me her choices aren't what a survivor would do. Every survivor is different.**

**Trigger Warning for having a rape kit/exam done. After everything, I still consider having a rape kit done to be one of the worst nights of my life. **

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Hermione awoke with grass and dirt pressed into her face. She could feel the breeze moving her curls. She quickly pushed herself up and looked down.

"They put my clothes on..." Hermione was in disbelief. There was no surprise that they didn't heal her, she could still feel every bleeding welt and the burn of the chilli oil, but they had the decency to clothe her. She looked around the ground with hope and gasped when she saw that they had also left her wand by her, in tact no less.

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. She could just say that she got turned around deep within the Department of Mysteries or that she had been _stupified_ and had just awoken. No one would have to know that she had been raped. That word didn't even feel right. Rape didn't feel strong enough for what Dolohov had done to. She desperately wanted a shower, but she also wanted to make sure Dolohov didn't have any diseases and she wasn't going to get pregnant.

With a heavy sigh, she apparated to Muggle London. Even dreading what she was about to do, she was thankful that Dumbledore had told McGonagall to teach her how to apparate. Life was slightly easier when one didn't have to floo.

After walking for a short bit, Hermione stared at the hospital in front of her. The last time she was in a Muggle hospital, she had been saying goodbye to her dying grandfather. She supposed that this would be even more traumatic than that.

Hermione was frozen still with dread when a nurse bumped into her. The nurse looked up to say sorry when her mouth snapped shut. Hermione had mascara lines running down her face and her shirt's v-neck cut showed the top of some welts. These two things were only part of the reason the nurse had stopped in the midst of apology. Some of the lash marks were still weeping blood, causing dotted lines of blood to show up on her shirt.

The nurse was at a lost. She wasn't even a true nurse yet; she would be given her diploma in a few weeks. She had never handled an abuse case before, and the curly-haired girl in front of her was obviously abused. She watched as the girl's eyes darted towards the Accidents Emergencies Department doors.

"I'm Meira. I'm a nurse here." She chuckled. "But of course you could tell that. I mean, hello scrubs."

Hermione took a step back. This girl would laugh at her when she saw the damage. She would think that she deserved it. This nurse would ask her what she did wrong. Only stupid girls get themselves raped.

Meira stretched out a hand to try to grab Hermione and then thought better of it.

"Wait, no. Don't go. I can see that you need help, that you need to be seen. Please, let me help you. I'm sorry. I've just... I'm pretty green." Meira pleaded with her eyes. This girl needed help; she needed help now.

Hermione stared back at Meira and supposed she had come this far. Now that she was here, though, she wasn't sure that she could say the words, could ask for what she needed. Hermione's in-your-face Gryffindor courage had yet to return. Hermione tried to talk, but her voice froze in her throat. Instead, she settled for gesturing towards the AE department and nodding.

Meira smiled, "Alrighty, let's get you checked out. Do you want to tell me your name?"

Hermione simply shook her head and kept walking.

"No matter, we will get that sorted eventually. the most important thing right now is... well to get you seen. We will take a look at all those..."

Hermione halted and started to sob. Her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, causing her to gasp in pain and wobble on her feet.

"Okay. No talking. Let's just get you inside on a bed." Meira gently reached out for Hermione's elbow and led her towards the doors. The AE receptionist looked up, gasped, and rushed over.

Hermione backpedaled at the quickly oncoming woman. The woman immediately stopped walking and started talking to Meira, who simply shook her head and asked her what room she could put her charge in.

Hermione did not want to be here. This was a mistake. She should have just healed herself and gotten ahold of some Plan B. But since she was here now, she allowed herself to be ushered along and gently pushed down onto a bed.

"I know Asena scared you. I'm sorry. She's like a mother wolf to every single person who comes in here. She probably took one look at you and wanted to know who hurt you so she could hurt them back. No matter, she's off to find a doctor. I don't know if you heard, but I told her it had better be a woman."

All the while, Meira, who couldn't be much older than 21 Hermione realized, was fussing over her. Hermione had numbly allowed Meira to take off her shoes and swing her legs up onto the bed. As Meira continued talking, she was tucking a blanket around Hermione's legs.

"Th...Thank... ank... you." Hermione managed to stammer out. She needed to say something. She needed to say she needed Plan B. She needed to say that she... that she wanted these bloody clothes off of her.

"Oh, really. It's no problem. That's what I'm here for after all." At that, a knock sounded at the door and a kind-looking woman walked in.

The knock had made Hermione jump, though, and she had immediately brought her knees up under her chin and hugged them tight.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Callany. I'm a gynecologist here. I heard that you might be needing me."

Hermione whimpered and nodded, reaching out to grab Meira's hand.

"Would you mind letting go of our Meira, miss? I need her to check your vitals. You look like you've been through a lot." Hermione didn't even look at the doctor but stared up at Meira with the look of a terrified puppy. Ever so slowly, Hermione released Meira's hands. Meira instantly got to work, sliding the thermometer across her forehead and then charting the result.

When Meira reached out to put the blood pressure cuff around her arm, though, Hermione screamed and started kicking and trying to get away. Her flailing caused her sleeves to fall up her arm, exposing her wrists and the scratches and bruises that adorned them. Meira and Dr. Callany gave each other a look.

"Okay, dear. We will just do that later. Okay? We need you to sit still. Will you let us put an oxygen monitor on your finger? Just so we know of we need to give you oxygen? Okay? There it is. Just try to be as calm as possible." Dr. Callany soothingly said from the side of Hermione's bed.

Hermione gave a little nod and held out her pointer finger. That monitor wouldn't constrict her, and she could easily tear it off if she wanted to. After Meira put the oxygen monitor on Hermione's finger, Meira went to get a hospital gown from the cabinet.

"We need you to change into this gown. can you do that for us?" Dr. Callany asked as she took the gown from Meira and held it out to Hermione, who promptly shook her head.

"We can't exam you with your clothes..."

"Cut them." Hermione's voice was so raw that Meira and Dr. Callany wondered how she spoke at all.

"Dear, we don't have t..."

"I SAID CUT THEM OFF!!!" Immediately, Hermione started tearing at her clothes. She didn't want to wear anything that Dolohov had seen her in, let alone touched.

Meira rushed forward and grabbed Hermione's hands, "Okay, okay. We will cut them off. Please don't hurt yourself. Can you stand so we can cut them off?"

Hermione whimpered and nodded, slowly getting to her feet. Dr. Callany grabbed the guaze scissors from the cabinet and came over. Meira supported Hermione as Dr. Callany started to make the first cuts up the front of Hermione's shirt. Hermione, for her part, did not flinch or whimper. She just stood there with her eyes scrunched close. As soon as the fabric of her shirt fell down, Dr. Callany gasped and took a step back. Being a doctor in London, she had of course seen her fair share of sexual abuse, but this was... this was something on another level.

Hermione whimpered at the sound of horror coming from Dr. Callany and decided to just lean into Meira even more. Dr. Callany quickly regained her composure and came back, quickly snipping up the sleeves of Hermione's shirt.

"Do you want us to cut your bra or just take it off?

Hermione stared at her blankly. She wanted everything on her destroyed. Hell, she wanted to destroy herself along with her clothes. How was she supposed to live like this?

"Cut."

Dr. Callany nodded and made quick work of snipping the parts that needed it. Then, she looked at Hermione's jeans.

"I can tell you want to be out of your clothes as quickly as possible. It will be quicker if we take your jeans off instead of cutting them. We can do that for you. You just have to stand there." Everyone stood still for about a minute, Hermione whimpering and not bothering to cover her chest. After Hermione showed no sign of refusal, Dr. Callany undid Hermione's jeans and slid them and her underwear down Hermione's legs.

As soon as Hermione's jeans were on their way down her legs, Meira wrapped a warmed blanket around Hermione, causing her to release a sigh. When Hermione was wrapped in her blanket, Meira guided her back to her hospital bed and sat her on the edge.

"Can you tell us your name?" came Dr. Callany's voice from the end of the bed.

What would giving a name hurt? Hermione knew she was incredibly unlikely to ever be seen in this hospital ever again. "Hermione."

"Alright, very good. That's a beautiful name, Hermione. I'd really like to exam you. You can hold onto Meira the hole time unless I need her hands. Okay?"

That sounded anything but okay to Hermione. Yet another stranger wanted to touch her. But this was different, wasn't it? Dr. Callany didn't want to hurt her. She wanted to fix everything that Dolohov had broken. Hermione just did not want her seeing the blood on her vulva or the swollenness of her sex and bum hole. This WAS why she came to a muggle hospital, to get looked at and checked up, to have the comfort of a physical checkup, not a magical one. She couldn't let anyone ever know what had truly happened to her anyways, and it would have gotten out if she went to St. Mungo's.

Hermione just nodded, and Dr. Callany instantly lifted the blanket up to Hermione's knees and asked if she wanted to know what she was doing. Hermione quickly shook her head no, and then preceded to escape into her mind by reciting _Hogwarts: A History_ by memory. Before she knew it, Meira was wrapping her elbow after drawing blood for the STD tests.

Hermione looked at her, and then escaped back into her mind and tried to name all the uses for Adder's Fork. She only came back around to noticing the world around her when Meira was repeatedly saying her name.

Hermione looked at her for a few seconds, which Meira mistakenly took as Hermione listening. Hermione was given an expectant look, but Meira put together that Hermione hadn't actually heard her.

"If you want to press charges or start an investigation, we need to take pictures. You don't need to decide today, but we do need to take them."

Hermione stared blankly at this nurse. A girl who hadn't judged her or blamed her for what happened to her. All Hermione wishes for was to go back to never having to know what that pity and protectiveness in one person's voice sounded like.

"Please tell me who did this to you, Hermione? I want to protect you. Are you safe at home?"

Hermione gave Meira a disgusted look through her fresh bout of tears. Of course she was safe at home. Her parents were some of the most loving people she knew, second only to Mrs. Weasley.

"When can I go home? They will notice I'm missing soon. I don't want them to worry."

Meira stared at Hermione. The words out of Hermione's mouth made it clear she had no intention of telling anyone what had happened to her.

"If you don't tell me when I can leave, I'll just leave now. With nothing but this blanket. I want to go home."

"Hermione... please... I think you should..."

"Do you want me leaving in this blanket? Do you honestly think I have any qualms about people seeing me naked!?! I know you saw my body. You think after being tortured I'd have qualms about seeing me in nothing but a fucking blanket!?!?"

Meira knew when her battle was lost. Hermione was not going to be swayed into staying. Meira could see it in Hermione's eyes; she would leave in nothing but that one hospital blanket if not given her answers.

"Will you wait for me to get back? I'll bring you a sweatshirt and joggers. Please. Wait." Without waiting for an answer, Meira took off, thankful that she had planned a workout for right after she got off in the morning. She'd get a new pair of runners later. Hermione needed them more than her.

When Meira flung herself back into Hermione's room, she deflated. Hermione was gone. The horribly abused, very broken shell of a girl had disappeared. Even the blanket was left behind. Meira glanced at the counter, Hermione's clothes were still. The only thing missing was that small pouch Hermione had clutched in her hand when Meira had run into her on the street.

Meira knew she should sound the alarm for a lost patient, but she simply couldn't find the energy. She just hoped that Hermione would get the help she needed.

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**I know that a doctor doing so much could be inaccurate, but I've seen doctors do everything a nurse does during a rape kit. Doctors that deal with sexual assault cases are incredibly compassionate. My own doctor was a male, which was terrifying, but he talked me through the entire thing.**

**Thanks for reading everyone. I know this was a rough one and could be very triggering. Please take care of yourself.** If** you need help, every first world country has a sexual assault hotline.** **Please**** join my Facebook page for my fan fictions: LiterarianRose FanFic.****The next chapter will not be as heavy or triggering. I swear on my book collection. **


	5. The Battle is Just Beginning

**Welcome back to the story. This chapter is...light hearted when compared to the chapters so far. There are no large triggers in it.**

**Hermione will be lying through her teeth about what happened to her. Nobody will suspect a thing.**

**Follow the Facebook page/group "LiterarianRose FanFic" for my commentary on the story, perhaps exclusive looks, and the story that inspired Hermione's character (my story of sexual abuse).**

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Hermiome grabbed her beaded bag, dug around in it for clean clothes and her vial of dittany. She healed what she could of her wounds, but made sure to leave some bruises on her arms and face. She was just in a battle at the ministry. Then, she rubbed a little of the potion into the wounds that remained. The whip marks were almost completely gone, save for the ones that had dug so deeply that they had bled. Even those marks were reduced to scratches that she could excuse as Crookshanks having a particularly awful fit. Giving her torse a final look over, she yanked her clean clothes on. She was oddly grateful that she preferred one style of jeans and preferred rich colored tops; it was less likely that any one would notice that she had changed, especially considering that her two closest friends were males and everyone who had seen her today had just gone through battle.

Feeling slightly awful for leaving without saying thank you to Meira, she took off down the hallway. As soon as she was outside the hospital, she walked to an alley and behind a dumpster. With determination, she thought of a certain bathroom at the Ministry of Magic that she had used when Harry had his trial for mistakenly turning his aunt into a human balloon. When she landed in the bathroom, she was relieved to find it empty.

Hermione washed her hands and threw water on her face. She felt extremely dirty and just wanted to shower. That want, no, _need_, would have to wait until later. For now, she had to go see what was happening now that Voldemort was dead. She peeked out of the bathroom, and when she saw that the hallway was clear, she started walking towards the main atrium, making sure to look confused.

"Hermione!!! Thank Merlin you are alright! What happened to you!?!"

Hermione fought with all of her considerable brain power not to lash out and fight when she felt herself being wrapped in a bear rug from behind. She knew it was just Ron, her sweet, loving Ron, but being grabbed without warning was terrifying. She could not stop her body from reacting before she had flinched.

Turning her around, rather too quickly, Ron put his hands on both her cheeks and stared at her. "I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you? Let's get you checked out by a healer." With that, Ron promptly pulled her by her hand across the atrium towards what she could tell was a triage area.

Hermione froze in her tracks. If a healer ran a diagnostic on her, the swelling of her vagina and ass would be detected. The mediwitch would see that she had scratches all over her torso; she would see that there are still welts across her nipples. Most importantly though, the diagnostic spell would also detect that she had been healed within the last hour. The healer would want to know why. This was triage after battle, there was no such thing as privacy. Hermione would not go over there.

"Ron." When Ron kept pulling her forward, oblivious to her feet not moving, she tried again. "Ronald." Her voice was coated with fear and desperation.

Ron whipped around at the sound of Hermione's voice. He had never heard that kind of fear coming from her. He immediately stopped trying to pull her forward and rushed back to her, craddling her face in his large palms.

"'Mione? Was it is? Do you need help walking? Are you in that much pain? I can tell that you are exhausted. Is that it? Are you just tired? Maybe you're hungry. You're in luck. I'm pretty sure Mom has intentions of making enough food for all of wizarding Britain."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She couldn't help it. Ron had never been this attentive to her their entire friendship.

"I'm just very tired, Ron." She punctuated that statement with a yawn. "I came around surrounded by prophecies and couldn't hear anything. Even as I walked in the direction of... well... here, I couldn't hear anything. And then, I get here, and there is no battle. I'm confused. I feel like I missed something, and you know how much it bothers me to not understand. What onn Earth happened?"

Ron stared at her, and then he pulled her close to him, wrapping one hand into the curls at the back of her head.

"Oh, Mione. We won." Ron's grip got unbearably tight, and then he quickly pushed her slightly away by grabbing onto her shoulders. "Apparently the prophecies breaking triggered an alarm. Aurors were here almost instantly. The Death Eaters weren't prepared for battle-trained wizards. They were incapacitated almost immediately. The only two that got away were Dolohov and Crabbe Sr, the fucking wankers." Hermione whimpered at the mention of her abusers, but tried to school her features. "Hey, Mione, it's okay. No major losses on our end. George lost an ear, and Mad Eyes magical eye is missing, but no one died."

Hermione sighed in relief. No casualties. Not for them. They could live their lives in peace. She wouldn't have to worry about war when she was taking her NEWTS. She slowly looked up at Ron with questions in her eyes. She had to know. Voldemort dying was the only reason that she hadn't been subject to even more abuse.

"Ron... Ron, how did Voldemort die?" Ron flinched at Hermione's use of the name, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes. The man was dead for crying out loud.

"It was spectacular. What a way to go out. I mean, not that He deserved that cool of a death, but still. Anyways, Harry and Him were stuck in this whirlwind kind of thing and both oblivious to the commotion around them. But a bunch of Aurors surrounded the thing and then cast some kind of counter spell to the whirlwind. Then, the whole lot of them, probably fifteen, all cast spells at Voldemort. A few were killing curses, some just jinxes or hexes. A few disarming. It was wild, Mione. It's like Voldemort couldn't defend himself. He didn't even react, didn't raise his wand. He could only stare at Harry, and Harry had this evil grin on his face. You would have loved the performance of magic, Mione. You would have poured over it for hours. Voldemort basically just... exploded for a second, but then instantly returned to human shape. Dead on the floor. It's over. It's really over."

Hermione was crying and hugging Ron closer. She couldn't believe she had missed that magic. Getting hit with that many spells would disfigure anyone. What made Voldemort return to human form after exploding from the force of the magic?

"I... I don't understand how that happened? Does anyone have any answers on why his body reacted that way?"

"Mione!"

"That has to be a new thing for magic. Have eye witnesses been interviewed?" Her mind was racing a mile a minute. She couldn't make sense of what happened to her, not really. But this, she could focus on this. She was a 16 year old with a brilliant mind. What happened to her body would not define her.

"Hermione!"

It was at that moment that Hermione realized she was still rambling out questions, though she had no idea what they might have been.

"Good. You're brain stopped yelling for a second." Ron gave her one his trademark oafish smiles. "If you really don't need to get checked out, let's still go over and make fun of George. I bet he's making jokes right now."

Hermione couldn't help but to giggle, but as she had gotten away with being questioned for the time being, she was aware of her body. She may have healed the whip marks and the bruises. She may have _scourgified_ herself. But the reproductive system, it was complex. She knew that. So she hadn't healed it at all, and she hadn't done an internal _scourgify_. She didn't know if it was safe. When her mind settled from thinking of ways to keep her alive and to lie to her friends, she noticed the burning inside her and the chafing that her crotch was getting from simply walking. But, if she wanted to keep her sexual abuse a secret, she would have to put on a show.

"Oh. I'm sure George is cracking countless jokes. Hopefully they aren't too bloody. You're mom would not like that."

Ron stopped walking and looked at her.

"You know, you fit right in with us. You always have. I always kind of thought you were barmy because you liked school so much but could crack jokes with the rest of us."

Hermione was stunned. Ron had actually thought something through. She just smiled up at him and reached out for his hand. She was more than surprised when Ron pulled her into his chest, cupped her face, and pressed his lips feverishly against hers. Her first instinct was to scream. Her second instinct was to push him away. Her third instinct, once her mind and body recognized it was safe, was to deepen the kiss.

They must have only been kissing, at most, for ten seconds, when they heard coughing. Ron turned such a brilliant shade of red that he clashed horribly with his hair, and Hermione was so embarrassed at being caught kissing that she felt tears well up. Luckily, she blinked them back to see who was in front of her: the entire Weasley clan minus Charlie. Fred had his arm slung across George's shoulder, completely disregarding the blood on George's shirt. Molly and Arthur were beaming at her. Ginny looked humored, and Bill and Percy just looked they wanted to go home to the Burrow.

"What are you two doing!? We just had a monumentuous moment in the family and you completely disregard it for a snog!" Fred whined in good humour.

Hermione just sputtered as she stared at him and George. Poor, George. Having your ear removed couldn't have been the best of fun. She just hoped it was as painless as possible since she didn't know what had actually happened.

George grabbed his stomach and laughed. Only to start hitting Fred in the chest with the back of his hand and exclaiming, " We're no longer twins" and then shoving his finger into his earlobe-less ear "See! Mom can finally tell us apart!"

"Get your finger out of your eye this instant! Do you want to have to get healed again!" Mrs. Weasley chided her son.

George gasped and ran to Mrs. Weasley. It was only 5 steps at most, and the entire Weasley clan quietly laughed when Mrs. Weasley in her regular exasperated tone asked George what.

"Do you think you could just knit me an ear on my Christmas sweater this year? oh! Year rhymes with ear! Anyways, then I will have 2 ears again! Just make sure it's the right one, yeah? I don't need two left ears!"

All of the Weasley except Molly and Percy roared with laughter. Leave it to George to be ridiculous. Fred leapt onto George's back and messed up his hair.

"Yeah, mum! He doesn't need two left ears and two left feet!"

"Oi! I'll have you remember that I danced better than you at the Yule Ball last year."

George and Fred desolved into one of their legendary wrestling matches only to get distracted when they heard Harry's laugh followed by him yelling echoed through the atrium.

"That's rich! You think my grand plan was to... to what... get even more famous??? Try to get money out of the government that did nothing to believe me this last year??? I don't want your fucking Order of Merlin!"

The entire atrium of people immediately fell into uncomfortable silence. Even the injured seemed to be stifling their moans of pain due to the situation involving Harry, the Minister of Magic, and some high ranking members of the Wizengamot.

Fudge sputtered. Never in his life had he been met with such disrespect, let alone from a 15 year old.

"I'll have you know, boy, that the Order of Merlin is no small thing. We want to hon..."

"I don't want to be honored! I want to be a child! I want to go out on a date. I want to not fight the battles that should never have been mine!" Hermione had silently settled next to Harry. She saw Fudge sigh in relief, thinking that she would talk Harry down.

"Minister of Magic Fudge. I mean no disrespect. But Harry has every right to be angry." Fudge was instantly furious again. "Maybe he should not be humiliating you in front of all these people, but you allowed the press to humiliate him to an entire nation for an entire year. You blatantly slandered his name because you were scared. As we are children and have our OWLs coming up in 2 weeks time, I would think it would be in your best interest to send us back to Hogwarts." When Fudge did nothing but stare at her slack-jawed, she had enough.

"Open the floo network to each House common room. Now. I tire of being here. We have fought the adult's battle because they were to daft to do their jobs. Let us return to school."

Ron, Harry, Fred, George, and Ginny were all incredibly upset that she was demanding them go back to Hogwarts, especially because she used exams to bargain with.

Fudge was too tired for this crap. He would deal with these insubordinate children after exams. The recipient didn't have to be willing in order for them to give out Order of Merlins. For now, he just wanted to get the Ministry back in order by cleaning up the mess and taking stock of what was broken, especially the prophecies.

"Alright, Miss Granger. Fine. Go back to school. We will deal with this matter later."

As everyone walked away from the confrontation, Harry mumbled under his breath, "no, you won't" and looked like he wanted to re-enter the screaming match.

Hermione just grabbed his arm and hulled him to the closest fireplace. Once there she shoved him into the fire, threw floo powder in it, and yelled "Gryffindor Common Room." In a flash of green fire, Harry was gone. She glared at the Weasley's and stepped in herself. After about 10 minutes, all the Gryffindor's that had barrelled into the Ministry were back where they belonged, their common room.

"Thank Merlin it's late. We didn't have to explain to a full common room why we were using the floo." Hermione stated.

Everyone stared at her. Trust Hermione to state something that absolutely no one else was thinking.

"What happened to you, 'Mione? One second you were behind Neville and I, and then you were just gone." Harry stared at her. He had been so worried about her, but then Voldemort showed up and he had to concentrate on what was in front of him.

Hermione froze. She had stupidly thought that Ron's questioning was all that would happen.

"I... I don't really remember getting separated from you guys..." That wasn't a lie. She had no idea how she got to Dolohov's dungeon. She supposed it was probably with an _Imperius_. "Somebody probably sneaked up on us. You two were so concentrated on what was happening in front of us." Harry and Neville instantly looked ready to argue. "Not that... not that I'm blaming you." But in that instant, she did blame them. She blamed them for shoving her behind and keeping her out of the fight. If they hadn't fallen into the idiotic masculine trait of protecting a female, maybe Dolohov wouldn't have got her... maybe she wouldn't have been raped.

"Okay. You got separated. You were missing for 4 hours 'Mione! What happened?!?" Harry was screaming and grabbed her shoulders. She could see the fear on his face. He had thought she was a casualty.

"I don't know what happened!" If one more person grabbed her tonight, she was going to lose her mind. "I woke up on my stomach surrounded by prophecies. Everything was dead silent. I couldn't hear anything. Nobody was around! I had to wander my way out. It felt like it took ages. I guess it did." She was disgusted with how easily the lies rolled off of her tongue. She was a liar. She was making the conscious decision to become something that she hated.

Harry stopped gripping her shoulders so tightly and yanked her to his chest, murmuring into her hair, "I thought I had lost you. I thought you were the one casualty. I can't lose you, 'Mione. You're my sister. One of the few things I have." Harry's voice was cracking. All of the Weasley's plus Neville were watching on. They all seemed to agree that her disappearance had been incredibly jarring to them.

Hermione worked to disentangle herself from Harry. "I'm fine. I promise. Nothing really happened. I was just knocked out. They probably recognized that I'm a formidable foe. That's it. They wanted to take me out of the fight."

Ginny stared at her. "If they wanted to take you out of the fight, they would have killed you."

Everyone nodded their agreement, and Harry again put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her to arms length. Hermione knew she had to say something, but what? Ginny was right, of course. Quick thinking was her specialty, but telling lies was not. She decided to go with a bit of the truth. After all, Dolohov had told her that he wanted to destroy her mind to hinder Harry, but that killing her would leave Harry seeking vengeance, which would have made him more powerful and focused.

"Maybe they just wanted to make me feel bad. You know... for missing the battle. If there had been casualties, I would never have been able to forgive myself. I wouldn't have been helpful. I'm positive that they didn't think that they would be defeated today."

That statement seemed to appease everyone, and they all nodded and murmured that it made sense. The murmuring was only punctuated when Ron let out a massive yawn. He turned a dull red from interrupting the quiet murmurs. Hermione couldn't help but to sigh with relief.

"Ronald is right. We need sleep. Tomorrow, we should all study. We can meet up in the library."

Hermione was met with groans from everyone, "Or outside. We can sit by the Great Lake. But we do need to study if we wish to prepare." With that, Hermione started walking towards the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories. When her foot hit the first step, she yelped. Ron had grabbed her wrist and yanked her down into him. His mouth crashed against her's. He broke apart and instantly started rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. George and Fred chuckled behind them.

"I'm... I'm just really happy that you're okay." Hermione's heart broke even more; she was anything but okay. "I... I see you. We can give it a real go."

Hermione smiled and patted Ron's cheek. Before tonight, she would have loved him for saying that. Now, she couldn't imagine being intimate with someone. Love should be allbaring. She couldn't keep her trauma a secret if she wanted a relationship to workout. Without looking back or waiting for Ginny, she made it to the fifth year girls' room and entered as quietly as possible.

As soon as Hermione closed the door to the sleeping quarters, she rushed to the bathroom and fell to her knees in front of the toilet. Her body heaved up everything inside her. When she finally stopped dry heaving, she removed her shoes and clothing, all while staying crumpled on the ground. When she was naked, she crawled to the showers and turned them on. All she wanted was to be clean.

Several minutes passed while Hermione just stared at the water. If she washed her body, would that be like washing away the pain, or would it wash away everything? Would she wake up and Dolohov would be just an extraordinarily bad nightmare?

Whatever this shower caused, she needed to get her crotch cleaned up, and that would only happen with a lot of hot water. Hermione slowly crawled into the shower and winced when the hot water hit her back. The water instantly turned her skin pink, but she stayed under the flow of water. Maybe the hot water would burn away the memories. Staying on the ground, Hermione started to scrub her crotch. The pain was horrendous, but she would bare it just to be rid of Dolohov's and Crabbe's essence on her body. She leaned forward and spread her cheeks, allowing the burning water to beat against her ass.

When Hermione felt that all of the chilli oil residue and the touches of Dolohov were burned off of her body, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, bent over her knees, and sobbed.

Hermione must have fallen asleep mid cry because she was awoken by Lavender screaming her name. Her first thought when waking up under the stream of shower water was, "how am I going to explain this?"

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**Thank you ever so much for reading my story. Please remember to follow "LiterarianRose FanFic" on Facebook. **


	6. First Day as a Victim

**Welcome back, my lovies. I hope you enjoyed your double chapter day.**

**After the first time I was raped, I completely forgot about it after a week. I still acted like a rape victim, but I didn't know I was one. My brain obviously didn't think I could handle it.**

**Hermione won't forget, per say, but her actions will infuriate you. Hermione is strong, but this is the one thing that will continuously break her. **

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Hermione's eyes blinked open, and she was immediately aware of the warm water pelting her bare skin. Great, she had fallen asleep in the shower. With that knowledge, it stood to reason that one of the girls had awoken her from her shower floor slumber. She looked over and saw Lavender standing in the doorway with a towel thrown over her shoulder and a hand on her hip.

"Honestly, Hermione. You really need to learn when to call it a night. I mean, really? You do this at the end of every year leading up to exams and whenever we have a big assignment." Lavender had hung up her towel and now started to strip down. Hermione just watched her from the floor of the shower and rubbed her temple.

"I do not do this all the time." Hermione huffed out.

"Oh, yes, you do." Lavender said as she pulled her shirt up and off, throwing it onto the floor. "It's like you don't remember you have a bed. Brightest witch of our age and all that my left arse cheek." Hermione winced. Lavender was gorgeous and self-confident. Hermione only held an ounce of that confidence, and she knew that it would be even worse now.

"If you do not get out the shower, Hermione, I'm calling a house elf to drag you out of it. Who knows how long you've been there." When Hermione started to move extremely slowly, Lavender had lost her patience with the bint.

"Get out of the shower! Don't you have studying to do or something." Hermione rushed to stand when she heard the ire in Lavender's voice. She was instantly scared she was going to get hurt.

Lavender watched her scamper up with great satisfaction. Hermione was so easily intimidated by a good bitchy statement. Lavender couldn't help herself, she looked over Hermione's body, just to prove that she was the better looking of the two. What she saw made her freeze. Hermione's arms were littered with healing bruises, with faint circles around her wrists. Her body wasn't even the worst part. Perfectly horizontal scratches ran across Hermione's breasts, some even bisecting her nipples. Those weren't even the only scratches on Hermione. There were more littering her abdomen. Hermione saw Lavender staring and instantly cowered.

"Keep that beast of yours in check, Hermione. No one will want you if you have scars everywhere." Lavender bit at her, but unbeknownst to Hermione, she knew was those kinds of scratches were from, a whip. She hadn't taken care of her mother's back for her entire life not to recognize what mediocre healing did for deep whip marks. Hermione Granger had been whipped, but if she didn't want to talk about it, Lavender was fine blaming the beast. After all, she had seen what that creature could do with his claws.

Hermione _accioed _a towel and wrapped it around her tightly. With a murmered "I'll try," Hermione left Lavender to her shower and went to her bed.

* * *

Harry and Ron found Hermione hunched over a book in The Great Hall with a quill tapping against her nose. They had wandered in around 10 am and couldn't help but wonder how long she had been here. Harry sat down on one side and started to butter a piece of toast, while Ron sat down after a kiss to the top of Hermione's head. Her only reaction was an involuntary twitch. Both mumbled good mornings, but neither got a response. They decided to ignore her nose in a book and talk about what would come next.

"It's going to be weird next year for sure. Nobody is going to be trying to kill me. I can just be me." Harry said as he scooped scrambled eggs onto his toast.

"Speak for yourself, mate. No person might be trying to kill you, but don't you forget about all those exams." Ron grumbled out around a piece of bacon. "We just have our OWLs and she's already freaking out about NEWTs in two years."

Harry and Ron laughed together at that. Hermione still showed no signs of removing her eyes from the tome in front of her.

"I wonder what the sentencing will be for everyone caught?" Harry murmured. He didn't want to be overheard. People were bound to learn today that Voldemort had been defeated, but he didn't want to be the one to tell them.

"The Dementor's Kiss, I reckon," came the garbled response from Ron. "I don't think it can get much worse than that, but I hope Dolohov and Crabbe get worse."

Hermione heard the names and froze--her quill stopped tapping and her eyes stopped moving. Everything about her person stood still, including her brain. All to soon, Hermione's body came back to sensation, and she could feel the whip lashing across her body. She couldn't help it. Her shoulders dropped forward and her arms wrapped around her stomach. Ron was instantly reaching for her.

"'Mione! You alright?" Hermione's only response was to shake her head meekly as flashbacks from the torture raced through her mind. "I knew I should have made you be seen. Let's get you looked at. Madame Pomfrey will set you right."

Harry murmured in agreement. If he had known Hermione hadn't been checked out by a healer, he would have raised the same hell at her that he had been raising against Fudge.

"Honestly, 'Mione. That was incredibly irresponsible of you. Who knows what kind of dark magic was flying around last night? We are going right now." Harry was not losing his best friend to her stubbornness. He slammed her book shut and started gathering all of her things in his arms.

"Harry! I'm fine! It... I'm really fine. This has nothing to do with the Battle." stammered Hermione. "I need to study!"

Harry simply started walking away. If she wanted to study, she would have to follow him all the way to the Hospital Wing to get her things back. He knew once Madame Pomfrey saw the state she was in, Hermione would be forced to stay.

"You need to be seen, 'Mione. I was an idiot for getting too caught up. We're going. Mum would kill me if I let something happen to you."

Hermione saw no way out. Part of why she didn't want to go to the hospital wing was because she wasn't sure if she could walk. Her boys weren't giving her a choice, though. She would have to stand and walk. She braced her hands on the table and stood, wincing at the remembered pain of yesterday, not to mention the stiffness from sleeping on a tiled floor.

Ron was instantly at her side, wrapping an arm around Hermione's waist. He wanted to just carry her to the hospital wing, but he figured he enjoyed having all of bits and not getting screamed at. As it was, Hermione fought against him anyways, demanding that she could do it herself. But when she stepped out of his hold, she stumbled directly into the last person she needed to see, Malfoy.

"Wasn't good enough for you to get my father thrown in Azkaban? Now I have to go change. You got Mudblood all over them." Malfoy scoffed down at her.

Ron and Harry were infuriated. Ron pushed Hermione behind, not noticing that she was shaking like a leaf on the Whomping Willow, while Harry whipped out his wand.

"Your father mad his choices, Malfoy. I was not the one trying to murder children last night."

Hermione whimpered. Malfoy could easily find out what Dolohov and Crabbe Sr. had done to her. Crabbe might already know and have been instructed by his father to take advantage of Hermione, to keep her in her place. If Malfoy found out, it would be the end of everything.

"I...I'm sorry, Malfoy. I should... should have looked where I was going. I... It won't happen. I promise. I'll... I'll be good." With that, Hermione stumbled her way out of the Great Hall and towards the infirmary. She just needed to get away.

Ron, Malfoy, and Harry just stared after her and then at each other.

"What have you done to her?!?" Ron was screaming in Malfoy's face. Hermione did not apologize to anyone unless it was a professor. She certainly would never apologize to anyone from Slytherin. "You had to have done something!"

Malfoy was stunned. What had gotten into Granger. She didn't apologize, not to him.

"I didn't do anything." Malfoy smirked at the dunder-twins. "Perhaps she finally learned her place was beneath me." Saying the words made Malfoy sick. Hermione was brilliant. She always had been, but his loyalties began with his father and ended with Slytherin. Gryffindor's princess was out of reach, no matter if she was the only one who could match his intellect.

"I don't believe you! You did something to her! What was it!" Ron was fuming. The only reason Malfoy hadn't been pummeled yet is because Harry had ahold of Ron's arm.

"Mate. Let's go. You saw Hermione. She probably collapsed on the floor." Harry tried to start pulling Ron away, but it was tough going. "Ron, come on! Help Hermione. Be smart."

"Yes, Weasley. Take advice from Boy Wonder. Go help your little Mudblood." Malfoy tried not to wince. That was twice today he had used the slur, and he had wanted to get away from it. After all, it has been some time since Malfoy saw Hermione that way.

Harry glared at Malfoy for making this even harder.

"If you touch a hair on her head, Ferret, I'll come for you." Ron then tugged his arm out of Harry's grasp and marched out of the Great Hall after Hermione.

* * *

Harry and Ron found Hermione slouched against a wall not far from the Great Hall. She couldn't seem to stop crying, was rubbing her chest, and kept whispering "please, I'll be good. Please stop" over and over again.

Harry and Ron took one look at each other, and then Ron scooped Hermione up into his arms. The only response Hermione gave was to wail louder that she would be good. Ron and Harry were so confused where this was coming from, but just assumed that her mind was playing tricks on her. As it was, they just kept rushing towards the Hospital Wing with Harry running ahead to alert Madame Pomfrey.

"Madame Pomfrey! Madame Pomfrey!" Harry ran into the infirmary screaming for the medi-witch.

"Mr. Potter. If you don't quiet down right now, I will bar you out of here! My patients are resting!"

"Please, Madame Pomfrey! Something is wrong with Hermione! Ron's carrying her up right now!"

The terror in Harry's voice instantly got Madame Pomfrey on the move. She immediately set her magic to ready a bed with fresh blankets turned down so that she could immediately tuck the poor girl in. Being tucked into a nice, warm bed always made people feel better. Just as the sheets finished being turned down, Ron burst through the doors with a screaming Hermione in his arms.

Madame Pomfrey was shocked. It sounded like the poor girl was being tortured. When Mr. Potter said something was wrong, she hadn't been expecting this.

"Quickly, Mr. Weasley, put Ms. Granger in the bed. Right here. Gentle now." Harry gave her a look at that, he doubted Hermione even knew where she was, let alone if she would care if Ron was being gentle enough.

Madame Pomfrey rushed forward and pulled the blankets up to Hermione's shoulders, not that they would stay there for long as tremors kept wracking Hermione's body.

"Please, you have to help her!"

"Mr. Weasley. What do you think I do in here all day! Of course I'm going to help her!" Madame Pomfrey scoffed at the idea of not helping one of the most beloved students to ever walk through Hogwarts' halls. "I know she was there last night on your foolish misadventure. Was she checked out?" She did not miss the glare that Mr. Potter shot Mr. Weasley.

Ron, for his part, did look sheepishly at the floor.

"She said she was fine... I was just so happy she had turned up. I... I let her talk me into not being seen."

"Humph. You should have forced her into. Well. She's here now, so no matter. Out" Madame Pomfrey started shooing them out past the curtains. They both protested vehemently, but when stinging jinxes started hitting their feet, they quickly back up and watched the curtain whoosh shut in front of them.

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**Alrighty. I decided to cut it here so you could have this chapter. Ron seems great right now, but pretty soon, the Ron bashing will arrive. Malfoy has lived most of his life in this forced persona under his father, so his change will be slow. By the beginning of sixth year, though, Malfoy will be infatuated with Hermione. **


	7. A Harrowing Magical Exam

**Welcome back to the story. This chapter was wretched to write. I didn't want to write it, but I decided Madame Pomfrey was important to my story, so this had to be included. As of right now, she's not a main character, but rather a character that knows the truth and observes. She notices Hermione's PTSD idiosyncrasies.**

**Trigger Warnings for sexual assault flashbacks and nightmares.**

**I recognize that the order Pomfrey treats Hermione seems weird. But I've gone through a lot of different therapies, and sometimes, my therapists let me experience my flashbacks and worst fears so that I can learn how to handle them. Seeing me in these states also helps my therapist.**

**Please follow/join my Facebook group LiterarianRose FanFic. It would mean the world to me.**

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With the curtain drawn tightly around Hermione's bed in the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey cast a strong _muffliato_ around it. Each bed of the wing had wards to protect the interest of whatever student or faculty that had the misfortune of falling into one of these beds, but knowing the nosiness of Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, Madame Pomfrey just wanted to be sure that Hermione's privacy was ensured, although she did have doubts that Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley would be able to break down the wards without Ms. Granger's help.

With the _muffliato_ cast, Madame Pomfrey was able to listen to Hermione's wild screams, and they instantly filled her with dread. She had heard screams like this when she was first starting as a medi-witch during Voldemort's first reign of terror. Poppy could not deny the truth staring her in the face: Hermione Granger had been raped.

The fact that Ms. Granger had been raped filled Poppy with so much dispair, she nearly collapsed to the ground in tears. As it was, Poppy's hands were shaking and she froze in her actions. Ms. Granger was so strong. The faculty talked about her strength and her power as a witch just as much as they talked about the upcoming war or Albus talked about socks. The faculty would coddle her when they saw Hermione as the shadow of her former self that she was bound to become.

Hermione's wails, though they were the original culprit of Poppy's reverie, tore Poppy from her thoughts. While casting for Hermione's vitals, Poppy listened intently for any hints on who hurt her charge. Hermione's most common statements were "I swear I'll be good" and "thank you for the pain." Poppy was growing nauseous with what those words implied. She was aware that there were men with certain... proclivities, and she was also aware that some people saw no problem with not getting consent and believing that it was implied. Hermione's screams told her story of trauma simply because they were screams. The man who had hurt Hermione had done so with the knowledge that Hermione was not consenting and decided to get off on hurting her. If Poppy ever learned who had dared harm the precious girl in front of her, the dragons protecting their eggs during the Tri-Wizard Tournament would look gentle in comparison.

Only once Hermione's screams turned to whimpers/screams of pain and no more intelligible words passed the girl's lips did Poppy slip a tranquility draught potion into Hermione's mouth and encourage her to swallow by massaging her throat while whispering "swallow this, dear." Poppy winced when Hermione's eyes flew open in fearful remembrance, flinched, and then swallowed. Hermione kept swallowing and swallowing. Her mouth was drying quickly from her intent to swallow until Poppy grabbed Hermione's hand, squeezed, and said that it was okay and she could rest. As soon as Hermione was done swallowing, she went back to whimpering and trying to make herself smaller. The potion would take effect soon enough, and then Poppy would be able to see what was happening and had happened to the girl's body.

Only a short while after the potion was in Hermione's system did Hermione stop screaming and settle, laying her head back on the pillow and staring but not seeing the ceiling.

"Ms. Granger." Poppy was ultimately hoping for a response, but she may have intentionally given Hermione a larger dose than was necessary simply because she didn't want Hermione to have to relive the trauma by seeing the diagnosis. "Ms. Granger, I am going to run diagnostics on you." As she was speaking, Poppy moved down the bed to stand beside Hermione's feet. "I'm going to start at your feet and work my way up. You will be healed in no time." _At least physically_, Poppy couldn't help but to think.

The first cast did not bring back too harsh of results. Hermione had bruises on her ankle that showed that she had obviously been restrained. Poppy could also tell that there had been rudimentary healing done to the bruises already, which was sickening since the bruises were still fairly bad. Poppy made short work of these bruises, and then sent diagnostic spells through both of her legs, which showed bruises on both of Hermione's knees. This had Poppy choking back a sob yet again. She hoped that these bruises were from kneeling too long, but her medical training told her that Hermione had been slammed down to her knees quite forcefully. Poppy was honestly surprised that the diagnostic test came back without broken kneecaps the bruising was so bad.

Poppy had to steal herself. The most difficult diagnostic spells to cast were those on the reproductive and genital areas. Spellwork wise, they were still simple, but casting them required a steel heart or the results would immediately be lost. Poppy knew that if the results were too damaging to her own psyche or heart, her magic would hide the results from her. This was to help healers not get distracted and be able to treat other injuries before returning to the, well, the injuries that caused people to loose their faith in others. Poppy knew her heart was too large for her own good and that was why she had chosen the path she had with healing. Looking up at Hermione's dosed face was enough, though. Poppy had to find out the extent of the damage, simply so she could heal Hermione and she would never have to dose the girl like this again.

With a deep breath in, Poppy cast the spell and instantly steeled herself for the results. All of the preparation in the world, however, would not have been enough. As Poppy saw the results beginning to flicker in the air, a sign that her magic believed her too weak to know the truth, Poppy couldn't help her outburst at her own magic, telling it in no uncertain terms that if Hermione could live it, she could know what it was.

Poppy couldn't help to let out a strangled sob when the results glowed brightly over Hermione. How could Hermione withstand all that it said she went through? Poppy had never seen such a horrendous list for one area of the body, especially a list that was mostly red, showing that the severity of the damage was quite extreme.

_Chemical burns to the anal canal, vulva, and vagina._

_Tearing of the anus and vagina._

_Internal bruising of the anal canal and vagina._

_Bruising of the clitoris._

_Bleeding welts of the clitoris_ _and vulva._

Poppy could barely stand to see the diagnosis above Hermione. Without any hesitation, Poppy dismissed that diagnosis and cast one on the rest of Hermione's body. Poppy was thankful that only one of this list was red, but her heart hurt seeing "bleeding cuts to both nipples" above Hermione. The majority of the diagnosis Poppy could tell was from a whipping as they all referenced welts and bruising. The other two were muscle fatigue of the jaw and arms.

Poppy sighed. This would be a long night of healing. She was suddenly very thankful that the year had been relatively painless in the case of injuries. The only damage control she had to would be for Murtlap since that hag of a DADA professor seemed to believe I corporal punishment. Otherwise, she had all of the potions that she could need for Hermione. She took one look at the dazed form of Hermione and bustled out from behind the curtain to retrieve what she would need, focused on doing what she could for Hermione's body.

"Madame Pomfrey! How is she?!"

"Will she be okay?"

"What's wrong?

Poppy swallowed stiffly. It was not her place to tell anyone what Hermione had gone through. "Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley. I understand that you are concernes for Ms. Granger, but the best thing for her would be if you simply returned to your day and studied." Harry and Ron immediately started to protest, but Poppy help up a hand. "She has simply overworked herself. It seems that your misadventure made her believe that she will never be prepared to sit her OWLs. You know how she can be."

Harry and Ron nodded at her and at each other. That was their Hermione.

"Can we see her?" Ron almost begged out, but before he could finish, Poppy was giving a resounding _no_ and ushering both of them out of the infirmary.

"She will be released tomorrow. Do not bring this meltdown up to her. She needs to re-enter her routine immediately upon release. Do you understand?"

Harry and Ron both murmured a "yes ma'am" while also looking rather put out.

"Good. You would probably ease her mind greatly if you took it upon yourselves to study for your exams. That way, she will be able to focus on herself and not you two. Now, Shoo!" The boys reluctantly wandered off grumbling about how even in a fit, Hermione somehow found a way to get them to study. Once the boys passed the threshold, the doors to the Hospital Wing closed tightly and Poppy was instantly off to gather supplies and treat her charge, doing her best to feel smug that the boys listened to her false diagnosis and not focus on the defeat coursing through her veins.

* * *

Poppy awakened with a start, shoved her feet into her slippers, and was out of her bed chambers before the first scream had really finished. Hermione had apparently had a nightmare or she had awakened and not recognized her surroundings. As Poppy rushed through the curtain, she realized it was most likely a coupling of both. What Poppy saw was horrible to watch and caused her stomach contents to threaten a reappearance.

Hermione's eyes were wide open and flooded with tears, and her fingers were coated in blood. Poppy stared at Hermione's hands. How on Earth did the girl manage to mangle her hands while asleep in the Hospital Wing? As soon as the question finished in her mind, Poppy's attention was drawn to the apex of Hermione's thighs. There were gashes on the inside of Hermione's thighs that were weeping, and Poppy instantly knew that Hermione had tried to "clean the trauma" off of herself while in the midst of a psychotic break. Poppy knew she needed to move, but she needed to calm her stomach. Within a matter of seconds of recognizing what was happening, Poppy was on the move.

"Hush, girl. Hush." Poppy started to raise her arms but hesitated before wrapping Hermione in her arms against her chest. "You're alright. I've got you." Poppy started rocking Hermione back and forth, trying to calm both her own and her charge's nerves. Hermione, though, would not be consoled.

"Whyyyy?!?!?" Hermione continued to wail over and over again. She tried to reach up to pull her hair, but Poppy intervened and wrapped her hands tightly in Hermione's.

"You're okay. I got you. You're in the hospital wing." Poppy was continuously cooing in Hermione's ear. Suddenly, Hermione came to realize where she was and her shaking and crying instantly stopped. She sheepishly looked up at Poppy, apparently not noticing her blood that was... everywhere.

"Madame... Madame Pomfrey. How... How did I get here?" Poppy knew in that instant that she couldn't bring up Hermione's injuries or trauma. Hermione would talk about it when she was ready to someone she trusted. After all, she didn't even remember the flashback that had brought her to the Hospital Wing or notice her blood-coated hands and bleeding thighs.

"Oh, dear. Mr. Weasley found you staring blankly at a book and shaking. When he tried to get you to move..." Poppy did not like lying to her charges, but this was a must. Hermione's mind would find it's path to healing in its own time. "well... you just started screaming. Neither him nor Mr. Potter could get you to calm down. So they brought you here, to me."

Hermione stared up at her. Had she honestly lost it because she was studying? No. She knew this was related to Dolohov and Crabbe Sr.

"Oh. Well... that sounds like me. I just want to get the _best_ marks I can."

Poppy sighed. She wanted to be there for Hermione to talk to, for Hermione to realize it was safe to be a rape victim; there was no stigma. She would not force the issue though.

"Yes, dear. I told the boys that you just needed to rest. I would discharge you after you got a good night's sleep." Poppy brushed Hermione's hair out of her face. Poppy was debating casting a silent _scourgify_ as to not retraumatize Hermione even more. "Speaking of which, I think it is time you go back to bed. I know you will want to get a start on those books as soon as you wake. We just have to take care of a little mess first."

Hermione smiled at the medi-witch and chuckled but stopped when she finally looked down at her hands. Screams of horror were instantly breaking their way through Hermione's throat. Madame Pomfrey would know for sure.

"Ms. Granger, please. I know. I know. Just let me clean you up." Poppy was gushing, but Hermione couldn't hear her. Madame Pomfrey would tell. Everyone would know. Hermione had to say something now before it was too late.

"Madame Pomfrey! Please, please, please," Hermione was reaching for the medi-witch's hand without a care in the world for the blood on them. "Don't tell. Please. I can't bare for people to know."

Poppy just patted Hermione's hand. She needed to make a decision and make a decision now. Hermione was obviously terrified at the prospect of anyone knowing, and she feared that letting on to Hermione that she knew she was raped would deter Hermione's mental focus. Hermione would never forgive herself for excelling in her grades, and that would just magnify the trauma. With that thought, Poppy made her decision.

"Tell who what dear? It simply looks that you have a rather heavy start to your monthlies. It is nothing to be embarrassed about. You must have just been laying just right that your hands got all messy."

Hermione blanched. Couldn't Madame Pomfrey tell the difference? I mean, honestly. What kind of healer did that make her? Oh well, she would go along with it.

"Oh... Oh, well yes." Hermione stammered out.

Madame Pomfrey patted Hermione's hand one last time before casting a _scourgify_ and a silent _episky. _

"See? Right as rain, my dear."

Hermione nodded. She was blessedly clean.

"I'll see you in the morning, dear. I'll give you a very small dose of tranquility draught when you wake just to keep you from getting to worked up. Do come back if your nerves are getting to frayed... or if you... oh nevermind. Just know I'm always here for you."

Hermione relaxed when Madame Pomfrey stopped rambling. It almost sounded like the medi-witch knew her secret, but that couldn't be, could it? Madame Pomfrey would have brought it up. She would have talked to Hermione, made sure she was okay. She simply couldn't know. That's the only reason that Madame Pomfrey wouldn't talk to her about what happened with Dolohov and Crabbe Sr.

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey. I will. Goodnight."

With that, Hermione laid back on her side and promptly fell asleep. Poppy watched from the very edge of little curtained room. Hermione might realize that she knew when she looked back on tonihhg, and maybe the girl would come to her. It didn't matter, though. However, the Tranquility Draught might make her memories fuzzy. Poppy knew what had happened, and she would be watching the girl and her interactions to make sure that she was okay.

Poppy slowly closed the curtain and walked back to her bed chamber. She would lay in bed, but she knew if she fell back asleep, the sleep would be fretful and full of nightmares of what truly happened to the Gryffindor princess. Poppy thought she had stopped crying over Hermione's trauma, but as soon as her bed chamber door closed tight, she threw herself onto the edge of her bed, buried her head in her arms, and sobbed herself to sleep.

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**Well, I'm thankful that this chapter is over. This might get edited and changed eventually, but for now, this is what I have produced.** **Leave**** a review down below to let me know how you are feeling about the story so far.** **Draco**** and Hermione have an actual conversation next chapter! He will truly start to realize that something is wrong with her, she isn't the girl he's always wanted but couldn't have. Will that make him stop wanting her? Heck no! He wants to fix her. **


	8. Leaving Hogwarts

**Hello, loves. Welcome back. I know the last chapter was, well, it was very short. This one will be longer, and it time jumps.**

**Trigger warning for flashbacks and suicidal ideations.**

**Remember to join LiterarianRose FanFic on Facebook for more of my insight and sometimes questions about where a scene should go.**

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Exams went off without any major school wide events or any major meltdowns from students. Well, that isn't quite true. Fred and George Weasley's firework display during the fifth years DADA OWL left Hermione in quite a tizzle. Exams were sacred; they were a right of passage. For students to just completely disregard that truth was blasphemy in her opinion. It took a bit for Hermione to get the sound of Mrs. Weasley's coming howler out of her head before she could concentrate on the exam in front of her.

Throwing herself into her studies did help Hermione forget her trauma, well, to not be entirely consumed by her trauma. But she had taken to pulling the curtains around her four-poster bed and casting a _muffliato _around her bed. The first night back from the Hospital Wing had her waking up with Lavender and Parvati telling her to shut up and keep her nightmares about failing to herself. Some of them were actually trying to sleep Lavender had said. Hermione was in such a fog of fear that night, that she hadn't seen the look of sorrow momentarily wash over Lavender's features.

Completely unknown to Hermione, as well, was that Lavender kept an especially tight watch on Hermione. Lavender watched Hermione prepare for the exams with more zealous than the girl had ever done before. Perhaps Harry and Ron didn't notice because they were boys, or maybe they didn't notice because this was their first year of life-determining exams, but Lavender thought that they should have picked up that the light of their so-called Golden Girl had dimmed quite a bit.

Lavender was especially annoyed with Ron. She had thought she had fancied him, but he was so oblivious to Hermione that she wasn't sure about her feelings any longer. Ron never noticed that Hermione flinched at every caress. He never noticed when her glamours on the dark purple circles under her eyes started to fade. For a boy so focused on food, he didn't even seem to realize that she had greatly decreased her caloric intake. At the very least, he should have realized she was getting thinner when her shoulder bones would poke at him as he cuddled up next to her. For someone who was supposedly in love with a person, Ron was completely oblivious to the struggle of the person of whom he loved.

Lavender huffed. She wished that she could do something for Hermione. No one should have to suffer as she was forced to. She had picked her mother up off the floor after her grandparents claimed that they were not behaving like proper Purebloods. Lavender personally thought that there was no proper way to behave, but her grandparents saw things differently. Lavender knew that recovering from a whipping was trying, and from the screams of Hermione the night after she found the know-it-all asleep in the shower, Lavender suspected that whipping was one of the easier things Hermione had endured.

The universe decided to show Lavender exactly who Ronald Weasley is when she walked past Harry, Ron, and Hermione's train compartment, which at the moment just held Ron and Hermione, and she could hear the muffled argument.

"'Mione. _Come On_! You know I love you, and I know you love me. Give me some affection" Lavender watched as Ron scooted closer to Hermione on the bench and reached for her hand. She also saw how Hermione recoiled at Ron cornering her.

"Ronald. I do give you affection. I'm sorry. It was exam time." Hermione tentatively started to reach for Ron's hand. "But it's summer now. I won't be studying, just reading next year's books."

As soon as Hermione's hand was in Ron's, he yanked her against him. Lavender watched as Hermione's body seized and her eyes went wide in horror. Lavender wanted to do something, but she didn't want to out Hermione's pain if she wasn't ready to deal with it. Luckily for her, she was the resident Gryffindor bitch. She could be a bitch to help Hermione.

Lavender threw open the compartment door just as Hermione started to silently cry. Ron was to oblivious to notice that Hermione's arms hung loosely around his shoulders with no actual effort on Hermione's part.

"Fantastic. The love birds." Lavender scowled and rolled her eyes. "Tell me, Hermione, will you wait until we graduate to start popping out red heads, or will you start this summer?"

Ron turned a brilliant shade of fuchsia, and Hermione backed up from Ron and hung her head. Everybody knew that she would rather die than have anything come between her and her education. Hermione's mind was reeling. Lavender had lived with her for five years, she of all people would know what her education meant to her. After all, Lavender was always griping about her books everywhere or when she fell asleep in the shower, which happened after nightmares but Lavender was always quick to verbally lash her for not finding her bed.

As Lavender stood there, arms crossed right under her breasts and a questioning look that could also kill, Hermione cowered in the corner. Although her mind was racing, Lavender seemed angry, and angry people could hurt her. She knew that Lavender wouldn't hurt her, and on fact, Hermione was grateful for Lavender's interruption, but that night with Dolohov changed her irrevocably.

After a few horrendous seconds, Ron decided to burst out.

"You can't just waltze in here being a bitch, Lavender! What Hermione and I do is none of your business!" Ron stood in front of Hermione and whipped his wand out at Lavender. "Hermione and I were busy. We were having fun. Leave."

Ron's voice shook Hermione from her internal monologue, but in the worst way that it could have. Ron was angry. His voice was coated with disgust at... Hermione was sure that it was at her, for not being a good girl. He would hurt her. She just knew it. She had misbehaved, and now she would get hurt. She brought her legs up to her chest and stared in shock, and that's when she actually saw Lavender.

Lavender had stayed put, her arms had not moved at all, but she was not the same Lavender that had burst into the compartment. Lavender's eyes were sad and her shoulders had dropped. Being a bitch had worked to get Ron off of Hermione, but Ron's temper just ended up terrifying her. Lavender wished she had never seen Hermione's lashes. Life would be so much easier. Maybe she could convince Hermione to leave.

"Oh, were you having fun? You kind of looked like you were forcing yourself on her. I saw you yank her to you." As Lavender talked, she walked past a glowering Ron and to Hermione. "Anyways. I actually wanted to talk to Hermione about one of the OWLs we took. We will be off now." With that, Lavender reached out for Hermione's hand and was pleased when Hermione grabbed it after only a second hesitation. As soon as Hermione was standing, Lavender dropped it and started walking out of the compartment. Hermione followed in a bit of a stupor.

Hermione was so confused. Lavender cared about her looks, not exams. There was no way Lavender knew what happened, so she was flabbergasted on where Lavender's pitying look had come from. Was Ron that disgusting? Nevertheless, Hermione didn't want to be by Ron right now, so followed Lavender towards the last compartment of the train, silently thankful that the last compartment was always empty. When they got there, Lavender whirled towards Hermione.

"Look. I don't care about you, I really don't. But you looked like you were drowning in there. Tell him no, Hermione. And afterwards, go get some food. I don't know what happened, and I don't want to know. But for crying out loud, pull it together, or you'll end up in St. Mungo's and everyone will know."

With that, Lavender walked out of the train car, leaving Hermione to stare blankly at where she had been standing. She stood there for she couldn't tell how long. She stood there as she remembered the feel of the whip hitting her nipples and the scream that had ripped its way through her throat. She remembered what it felt like every time Dolohov brought the whip up against her clit. The pain had seared through her body, but before she even registered where the pain was coming fr, Dolohov was slamming her down onto the dildo in her ass. She remembered feeling her back aching in agony and her stomach gurgling. She was too full, and that coupled with the whipping had her body in overload.

Hermione stood in that last train car and didn't recognize that she was in there or even on the Hogwarts Express. She slowly walked to the very end of the train and opened the door until the little outside platform. She stood there, still feeling every pain that Dolohov and Crabbe Sr. had inflicted onto her body. She stood there, as the wind whipped her hair around her face and she saw without seeing. When the pain disappeared from her back, when the flashbacks were giving Hermione a break from the torment, Hermione did see that the train was going over one of the many valleys on the way to London. She wondered if jumping off of the train to the bottom of the valley would hurt as badly as what Dolohov had done. Would it hurt as badly as living with the pain of after?

Tears were streaming down Hermione's face as she contemplated ending the torment. After all, Lavender was right. If she didn't start eating soon, she would end up in St. Mungo's, and then everybody would know. If the wizarding world was anything like the Muggle one, she would be blamed, if she was even believed. More than likely, no one would believe her because she had kept quiet. With that thought, Hermione gripped the railing surrounding the platform.

* * *

_Draco's Train Thoughts_Draco Malfoy was angry and annoyed. His father sat in Azkaban while Crabbe's ran free! A _Malfoy _bested by a Crabbe. The world was going to implode. Mostly, Draco was angry that his father had been so stupid. Malfoys protect their name at all costs, and yet his father had thrown away his duty as Head of House and shoved their family name so far into the mud that Draco was unsure if he would ever be able to get it clean. He had wanted to heal through potions. He had wanted to apprentice Snape so he could be a Potions Masters in his own right. He didn't have to work, but he wanted to, and not for Malfoy Enterprises.

Draco was seated in his usual compartment, in the second to last train car, when he looked out the compartment window into the Hall and saw Lavender Brown angrily march by, followed by none other than the Gryffindor know-it-all. He laughed, but then he saw Granger's disposition: tears running freely down her face and her bony arms holding her tiny ribcage. He wondered when she had stopped eating, and then he wondered why he could tell that.

Who was he kidding, he had wanted Granger from the moment his father had laid down the "No Granger Rule," as he liked to called it. He had come home from first year and raved about the adventures. He had been upset that Potter had rejected him, but he had been enthralled by Hermione's thirst for knowledge and her wild hair. His hair was so flat, it held no dimension. But _her_ hair, it was a wonder how she ever managed to get it pulled back in Potions.

Draco had told his mother all about the girl who had bested him in every subject, about the girl he was fascinated by. He should have known that what his father had told him wasn't true, Malfoy's do not get the best of everything, otherwise, Malfoy would be allowed to talk to Granger. It was at dinner one night in July when his father found out more about Hermione.

Draco could remember it like yesterday. It was the first time his parents had ever said _no_ to him. His father had asked about Granger's parentage, and Draco had tried to beat around the bush. He had said that they obviously were well-off since Hermione's robes and books were new and of high quality. His father wasn't distracted from what he wanted to know: what was her family name? His father had slammed his fist into the table when Draco had skirted the issue yet again. Finally, Draco muttered that she was a Muggle-born. His father was furious. He was not allowed any new books that summer and his broom had been confiscated.

Draco was still staring into the hallway of the train lost in thought when he saw Brown muttering her way towards the rest of the train cars. He waited expectantly, figuring he would see Granger walk by any second, but that moment never came.

Draco extracted himself from Pansy, why she couldn't get that he _was not interested_ was beyond him. No matter, she would get the point eventually. He simply got out from her grasp and walked out of the compartment. Then, he walked to the last train car and prepared himself to talk to Granger without anyone around. It would be the first time since first year, and he wasn't sure how it was going to go. He knew he had been awful to her. She would instantly be on the defensive.

Silently closing the door to the train car behind him, Draco turned to look at Hermione. He probably could have been as loud as a mountain troll, and she still would not have reacted. He froze. He was sick to his stomach.

Hermione was standing in the middle of the hallway sobbing. He could hear her sobs. He could also see her flinching and whimpering. He didn't know what to do. She looked like she was being tortured. She was rubbing her arms as if they were burning in pain, but he could tell that she wasn't truly in the train car with him, only her body was.

If Draco was nervous about seeing her alone before he walked into the car, now he was terrified. Maybe he should go get Potter. No, he couldn't do that. Potter would think that he had done something to Granger. Merlin, he needed to stop calling her that. His father was in prison. He was head of his own house. He could do as he pleased.

Draco stood frozen as Grang...no, Hermione, walked to the back of the car and walked out onto the platform. She didn't seem to be doing or thinking anything, just standing there.

Even though Draco was still shocked at the torment he had seen Hermione in, he was floored by her beauty in the sunlight. The sun was making her hair a multitude of browns and blondes. The wind from the train was whipping her curls. Draco instantly imagined that it was wind from riding his broom behind him that was going through her hair. He could almost imagine the bubble of laughter that she would give as she held on tight.

Hermione's movement grabbed Draco out of his day dream. She was walking to the edge of the platform. Draco could understand that, lean over onto the rail and relax. That was always a great position to think. Draco couldn't understand why she was going to the side railing, though. The wind would hit her face with blunt force. It would not be comfortable. It would actually be quite painful.

Draco watched as Hermione wrapped her bony fingers around the rail. That wasn't how you relaxed. When Draco saw Hermione's chest rise and fall with a deep breath, he knew what she intended to do. He raced down the hall of the last train car and threw himself out of the door onto the platform. By this time, Hermione was halfway through putting one of her legs over the railing. Draco grabbed of waist, cringing at the ribs he felt under his arms, and hauled Hermione back. She kicked, but it was muted. As if she didn't really know what was happening. To be on the safe side, he carried Granger into the train compartment and closed and locked the door behind him.

Hermione stood there. Knowing that she couldn't kill herself today, but wondering why not. It hadn't sunk in that she had been carried away from the rail. That was, she wasn't away of it until she heard Draco Malfoy's voice, a voice that cracked on her name.

"What the hell was that, Granger!"

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**Well, I hope you liked Draco's true introduction. His intro went a bit differently that I was going to have it go, but this is what flowed out of my hands. I hope y'all liked it.****Leave a review down below! **


	9. Draco Saves Hermione

**I hope you enjoyed that last chapter. We are about to get some angry Draco, but it will be the only Draco we get for awhile.**

**I feel like trigger warnings might not be necessary, as this is a story about Hermione dealing with being raped, but... I will put them anyways.**

**TW for rape flashbacks and attempted suicide.**

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_"What the hell was that, Granger?" _Hermione stared at Malfoy. Why was he here? Why did he just haul her back from what she needed? She needed to be dead. She could not deal with being alive. Maybe a true Gryffindor would try to find her way back to who she was before, but Hermione felt that as a Gryffindor, she was being brave by knowing herself well enough that she wanted to die. Malfoy was staring at her in anger. If he was so angry that he saved her, why would he do it? He would be top of their class if she was dead.

"Earth to Granger." Malfoy said while waving a hand in front of Hermione's face. That snapped her out of it. He was too close to her. She understood. Malfoy was the son of a Death Eater. Hermione couldn't take her own life, Malfoy wanted to be the one to do it. That's why he was mad. He probably wanted to fuck her before that, though.

"What?!?" Hermione spat back. "Do you want to fuck me too?!?" Her tears started anew, streaming down her face.

Draco staggered back. Did he... did he want to fuck her? No, well... yes, but not fuck. Make love to her? Yeah. Fall asleep beside her afterward? Yeah. But not fuck. He wanted emotions involved.

"What? You can't speak?" Hermione was raving. He couldn't even admit what he wanted: her cunt or ass and nothing else. She was just a body. "Oh. I get it. You don't want to sully yourself with a _Mudblood cunt_!"

With that statement, Hermione stormed back to the very end of the train and tried to slam open the door, only to find it magically locked.

"Malfoy! Let me out!"

Draco just stared at her. He had never seen her like this. She spit fire all the time, but this, this wasn't the rational fire she usually had. This was damaged, this was... this was not Hermione Granger. As he stared, Hermione started to pound on the door, not realizing that her knuckles were bruising and starting to bleed. Just he took a step towards her, Hermione whirled around.

"You listen here, you piece of shit! Let me out of here. I don't want to be alive! So let me do us all a favor and get rid of me!" Hermione was fuming in Malfoy's face, but her voice had cracked on almost every word, and he couldn't begin to imagine what had broken the girl in front of him so much.

"No."

"No?!? Malfoy! If you don't..."

"I said _no_, Granger." Malfoy took a step towards her. "You aren't jumping off this train."

Hearing her suicide plan uttered by someone else cut her deep, and Hermione crumpled to the floor in sobs of defeat.

"Whyyyy? Why won't you let me die!?!" Hermione was curled in on herself, her spine showing through her shirt since she was so malnourished. Draco slowly got onto his knees in front of her, not sure what he was supposed to do.

"Please. Malfoy. Please! Let me do it." Hermione was wailing at this point. Staring up at him, but he was positive that she couldn't actually see with how much she was crying.

Draco took that opportunity to slide across the ground so that he was close enough to touch Hermione. He reached out and slowly moved some of her hair out of her face. With how she was curled up on herself he could see how pronounced her collar bones had gotten, not even mentioning her cheek bones. He shivered and wondered how she even had energy to scream and cry like this. He swallowed hard. He had to talk.

"I'm not letting you kill yourself, Gran... Hermione." At the sound of her given name, Hermione whipped her head up and blinked at Malfoy. His use of it didn't change her mind though. She wanted to die.

"You don't understand. You can't." Hermione was trembling. She hadn't said it out loud. She honestly wasn't sure that she could.

"You're right, I don't. But you aren't dying." Draco again tried to brush her hair out of her face gently, but his hand snagged in her curls, and within a millisecond of it happening, Hermione ceased her tormented sobbing and was as far from Malfoy that she could get, having scrambled back on her hands and feet. Malfoy was shocked, and he stared at her, not understanding the look of terror in her eyes.

"You... You can't have me. I won't be your slave, Malfoy." Hermione spit out, but her words made her recoil into herself. Malfoy could have whatever he wanted, he was a Malfoy. He probably had a sex dungeon too.

Malfoy stared at Hermione in shock.

"What are you talking about? My slave? I don't want a bloody slave, Granger!" Malfoy was practically yelling. This was not how he had intended their first private conversation to go. He had intended to apologize for the role he had played the last four years. After all, his taunts in first year were directed at Potter and Weasley. When he realized Hermione wasn't going to speak again, Malfoy opened his mouth and tried to speak calmly.

"I don't want a slave, Gr... Hermione. Why would I want a slave?" He started to crawl on his knees towards her, but when he saw her recoil, he stopped.

"I saw you follow Brown in here. You looked upset. Then I saw her leave, but you didn't. I came... I came to see why." Malfoy had sat back on his feet and had his palms facing up. He was trying to make himself look as non-threatening as possible. As Hermione still had her back practically pasted to wall, he wasn't sure it was working.

"Oh? You wanted to see why?" Hermione started. With each word, her voice got a little stronger. "You just wanted to make fun of me. You say you saw me upset and you just wanted in on it!"

Malfoy exhaled heavily, letting his shoulders slump forward.

"I didn't want in on it." Malfoy murmured at the ground. He then picked his head up to look at her, leaving one hand on his leg and using the other to brush through his hair in frustration. Hermione humphed, not believing him.

"You haven't been eating." Hermione looked away and scoffed. She knew that, but she didn't think anyone had noticed, although Lavender had.

"You are little more than a skeleton. Have you actually eaten anything the past three weeks? Because three weeks ago, you looked normal. Hell, I think your hair has even gotten thinner!" Draco huffed out. Hermione's eyes whipped to Malfoy's face. She had been loosing hair. Malfoy noticed? What was happening. Ron and Harry hadn't even noticed. Madame Pomfrey had, she had even threatened to start spiking her water with nutrition potions. But Malfoy noticed. A Pureblood noticed that a Mudblood wasn't taking care of herself.

When Hermione didn't say anything, Draco tried again.

"Something happened. This isn't about exams. I know you couldn't have failed. Something happened." He tried crawling towards her again, and this time, Hermione did not recoil. He managed to get right next to her. When she just looked at him, he settled next to her with his back along the wall.

"Hermione. What happened?" Draco pleaded with his voice and his eyes. Turning his head to face her to watch her face.

"Nothing. Nothing happened." stammered Hermione. Malfoy would just use the truth against her. He was only being nice to get the upper hand.

Draco couldn't help but let out a rough laugh.

"Bollocks. Hermione Granger doesn't just decide to kill herself because nothing happened." Draco was starting to get exasperated by her antics. Something had obviously happened. Anyone could see that. Hermione shot him an annoyed look.

"Let me rephrase. Nothing happened that you would care about or that I'm going to tell you."

Draco just stared at her. Was she kidding? He obviously cared. He was sitting on the floor of a train car with her. He had stopped her from killing herself. And she thought he didn't care! In what world?

He reached out to brush the hair off of her shoulder, causing a confused look to come his way.

"I do care. Please. Tell me what happened." Hermione was staring at his face, and he tried to look even more concerned than he was, which he wasn't sure was possible since he was incredibly worried. Hermione shook her head no. Okay, Draco knew he just needed to try to harder.

"Okay, I'll tell you what I know. The day after father got arrested, you profusely apologized for bumping into me. Something you would not have done a week before." Hermione bowed her head down. That was true. The old her would not have done that.

"Soon after that happened, you started loosing weight, and quickly." He heard Hermione let out a choked sob, but he had to keep going. "Everytime the Weasel goes to touch you, you flinch. You look guilty every time you do, but you can't seem to stop. I always thought you would be an affectionate witch with your wizard, but you look sick every time he touches you." Hermione had buried her head in her knees and continued to sob. Draco had to swallow past the lump in his throat. He reached out to play with some of her curls as he continued.

"For someone who is always touching you, Weasley is dumber than I thought he was. He doesn't seem to even notice that he can feel all your ribs and your shoulders are basically just bone with skin over them." Hermione let out a choked laugh through her sobs at that. Draco just continued.

"Here's another thing I know. There is no love between you and Lavender, and yet besides me, she is the only other student to have seen your decline. Why is that? hmm?" Draco waited patiently. Just maybe she would answer that. After a minute, he was rewarded with Hermione raising her head to look at him. He was thankful that he had been on alert for her voice, or he would have missed her utterance.

"She found me." Hermione whispered. She just continued to stare at Malfoy. "She found me asleep in the shower. She saw the... nevermind." Hermione turned away. Malfoy did not need to know that Lavender had seen the poorly healed lashings, which apparently the witch recognized as whip marks and not wounds from Crookshanks.

Hermione felt Draco's hand still in her hair. She sighed. His playing with her curls had calmed her down. It kept her rooted in the present.

"Saw what, Granger? What did Brown see?" Draco murmured, staring at her face, hoping with all her heart that she would answer.

Hermione swallowed, tried to speak, and then closed her mouth. Could she say it out loud? She hadn't said it yet, said anything that happened to her. Not even during the exam at the hotel in London.

"Thewhipmarks." Hermione stammered out quickly. She just hoped that Malfoy would accept that as an answer. Of course he wouldn't, though.

"The what marks?" Draco was hoping that he hadn't heard that second word correctly. Granger had been whipped? What? By who? When? Hermione just stared at him through her teary eyes. Maybe saying out loud that the cuts were not from Crooks would help her. She could try. It couldn't make it worse, not really.

"The cuts." Hermione whispered, and when Draco opened his mouth to tell her that's not what she said, she continued. "The cuts all over my body..." Hermione choked out a sob. "They... they weren't from my... my cat."

Draco felt sick to his stomach. Hermione was trying to tell him something. Merlin, he could see that she was trying, but her sobbing was starting to get uncontrollable again. He almost wanted to tell her that he didn't need to know, but before he could open his mouth to tell her to stop, she continued.

"They weren't from my cat. Oh, god. No. I had already tried to heal... to heal them. After I... I went to a muggle hospital." Hermione couldn't bare to look at Malfoy anymore. She would loose her nerve if he saw the look in his eyes.

"They... they were..." Hermione swallowed her sobs. She needed to say it. Just say it out loud, and maybe she would feel better. "I had... I had been whipped." Hermione sighed. She needed to say it. Could she say who? Would Malfoy want to know? She hazard a look at Malfoy, he looked sick.

Draco's world was spinning. Hermione had been whipped. She had gone to a muggle hospital instead of St. Mungo's. Why? When had this happened? Who had... Who did it? Before he could stop himself, he was asking who. Hermione flinched at how cold his voice was, but she felt in her bones that it wasn't at her. She swallowed. Malfoy wouldn't tell anyone. He had nothing to gain from it. But telling him, it terrified him. She started sobbing even harder. Draco's hand instantly flew to her hair and started to play with her curls; it hadn't escaped his notice that it had calmed her.

Draco was still listening intently. Although her face was buried in her knees yet again, he thought maybe she would say it. He wasn't wrong. Only shortly after starting to play with her hair again did Hermione's head whip up and her streaming eyes catch his worried ones.

"Dolohov." Hermione basically breathed out.

Draco's hand froze. He couldn't swallow. He couldn't breathe. He had heard what Dolohov liked. He had heard the stories of women who had been dumped at St. Mungo's after Dolohov had his fill. They were never whole again. They spent years in St. Mungo's learning their basic functions again. Some never recovered. Dolohov had whipped Granger. How had she gotten away? How was she still walking? How could she function at all?!?

Hermione saw the horror in Draco's eyes and knew that he knew the truth. Only someone who knew the true sadistic tendencies of Dolohov would look that terrified and pale after her uttering his name. Her tears broke anew, and instead of hunching back over her knees, she slumped into Draco's side, grabbing his blazer tightly in her hand, and sobbed into his chest.

As soon as Hermione's head hit his chest, his arms were around her. What he really wanted to do was throw up, but Hermione needed comfort. He guessed this was the first time she had admitted to anyone what had happened, even if Draco knew that it was not the whole story. His one hand rubbed her outer arm, while the other hand continued to play with her hair.

Her sobs were relentless. Her whole body was shaking. He wasn't sure if she would ever stop. He was thankful that she wasn't trying to throw herself off the train anymore, but he understood why she wanted to. He would also want to die if Dolohov had turned his eye on him.

Draco sat there rubbing Hermione's arm and playing with her hair while she cried. After a while, her sobs quieted into heavy breathing. He tipped his head and could see that she had fallen asleep. Her puffy eyes were gently closed, and her mouth was just barely parted. He supposed that he couldn't judge her for being a mouth breather when she had just cried so hard.

He was worried that if he stopped playing with her hair, she would wake, so he started slowing down. She didn't seem to notice the slow down, so he ceased completely. When she didn't stir, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and pulled her tightly against him. The only sound she made was a contented sigh. He looked down at her, hoping that his embrace would protect her from nightmares, and sighed.

Hermione Granger was strong, that he knew. Would her strength be enough to pull her out of the hell that Dolohov had created for her? Would Weasley wake up and realize that she was hurting? Would Potter? Would they help her? Would she tell them? With all these thoughts racing through his mind, he let his head fall back against the wall he was leaning on. He hoped that she would get help. She was a mess. As he thought of how he could help her, he allowed his eyes to close. Listening to Hermione's gentle breathing, he drifted off to a troublesome sleep. His dreams consisted of Hermione being whipped and burnt. His subconscious delivered the worst possible scenarios for what Hermione had endured.

They stayed that way for the majority of the train ride: fast asleep. Hermione's hand still clutching his blazer and Draco's arms wound tightly around her, as if they could keep her safe for eternity.

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**The End! LOL, IM KIDDING! ****This is not the end. I promise.** I** hope you enjoyed the first Draco chapter! Where will they to from here? Will he see her over the summer? What will happen with Ron? So many questions! So much story to write! **


	10. Draco Comforts Hermiome

**Trigger warnings for the content, as always.**

**Please leave a review. I feel like some of you hate the direction this is going, which is your right as reader's, I'm just being super insecure. **

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Hermione blinked open at the jerking and squealing of the train. She wasn't in a bed. To be honest, her one hip hurt quite badly and her one arm was asleep. Her fingers also felt like she had been revising for hours on end. Her hand was the first thing she looked at, and she blinked even more when she saw her fingers were tightly gripping a high-end blazer. Logic told her there was a man in that blazer, and she slowly shifted to look up to his face. Shifting was not as easy as she expected, though. When she had tried to scoot a bit away from the chest she had fallen asleep on, the two arms circling her had tightened. Hermione had to settle for just tipping her head back to look at her pillow's face.

Hermione gasped.

Draco jerked awake to Hermione's gasp. His hand immediately finding his wand, and he pointed it towards the opening of the compartment. His other arm tightened even more around Hermione and pulled her into his chest. His first thought that someone was here to hurt Hermione. Then, he realized that her gasp was probably one of surprise. She had been crying so hard and so histerical that he wasn't surprised that she didn't remember exactly what had transpired before she fell into her sleep.

Draco looked down at Hermione and sighed. She was obviously confused and didn't understand his protective move.

"Malfoy... what... why are you here?"

Draco shook his head. He hoped she at least remembered telling him that Dolohov had... had whipped her. He had to fight himself from crying.

"I came to see if you were alright, Granger. I found you trying to jump off the train." He felt Hermione wince, and he looked up to the ceiling for help. Hoping that her memory would be jogged if he kept speaking.

"I pulled you back inside. You were acting crazy. Then..." Draco sighed heavily as he heard Hermione's ragged intake of breath.

"I told you." Hermione stated. "No no no no no! How could I be so stupid!" With those words, Hermione started pushing against Malfoy's chest. She had to get away. He would take advantage of knowing. He had been so kind, but she knew that wouldn't last forever. He would lash out. Then, her thoughts froze her fight to get away.

"Please. Please don't tell anyone!" Hermione managed to get her knees under her, and she clutched Malfoy's blazer. "I'll do anything you want. Just please don't tell anyone!" Hermione bit her lip in though, trying to steal herself, and she looked down at Malfoy's crotch. She just hoped that if she gave herself to him, he would keep his mouth shut. She knew that maybe he would give her to his friends, but that was a risk she would deal with if the time came.

"Gr... Hermione! Come off it. For the last time, I don't want a slave." Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes. Then, he settled his gaze on Hermione's face and was startled by what he saw there.

Hermione's eyes were full of terror, but her face was full of conviction. Draco knew in that instance that Hermione had survived Dolohov simply out of sheer stubbornness. Her body might be broken. She may be little more than a skeleton. She might flinch at every touch. Her mind might be warped to please, Draco wasn't sure the extent of this one. One thing was certain though. If the option between keeping her abuse a secret or someone telling everyone, the true Hermione Granger was back. She would do everything in her power to keep her secret. Her determination apparently extended to achieving the highest marks possible and keeping her trauma secret.

"Malfoy..." Hermione was begging now, just barely restraining herself from shaking Malfoy, "I'm begging you. Please!" Malfoy was just staring at her with his mouth hanging open, it was making her incredibly anxious. She had to make him promise to keep her secret. "Ke... Keep my secret, a..and you can have my m...mouth. I promise!"

Draco recoiled from that. His heart broke. His strong, brave witch... The one person he truly admired and adored, if from afar, and she was offering her mouth to him? To keep her secret? What had Dolohov done to her before she managed to escape?

Of course, Hermione thought he recoiled because she was a mudblood.

"I... Malfoy! I promise! I can be a good girl! I swear!" When Malfoy continued to stare at her without saying anything, Hermione released his blazer and curled in on herself, wrapping her thin arms around her bony torso. Her small body started shaking with sobs. Draco didn't know what to do. He tentatively reached out a hand to her back and started to make small circles.

"Hermione." Draco cleared his through. His voice cracking wouldn't help anything. "I don't want your mouth, and I don't want a slave." Hermione again began to protest that she would be good. "I believe you. I believe that you can be good." Hermione buried her head further between her knees, and Draco tried not to blanche at how much more pronounced the movement made her spine.

"Hermione. Look at me" Draco moved his hand to move her hair from hanging down one side of her face. "Please. Just look at me."

Hermione was surprised at the emotion in his voice. Why did he want her to look at him so badly. His begging was getting to the part of her that Dolohov had trained, though, and she was helpless against her instincts telling her to lift her head. Hesitantly, she did, and she saw Malfoy sigh in relief.

"Thank you." Draco knew he had to tread carefully. "I know you can be good because you are never anything but good." He watched Hermione wince at that, and he wanted to curse Dolohov wherever he was. Voldemort was gone. Draco could finally chase what he really wanted, and Dolohov had broken so much of her. If Draco ever saw the man, Dolohov would be lucky to be hulled away alive.

"I don't want your mouth or you as a slave because I don't need it." Shit. That wasn't what he meant. That sounded like he already had a slave. "I don't need it because I don't want your body given to me just to keep me quiet."

"Please! You can't tell! No one knows!"

"Shush! You insufferable witch! I'm not going to tell anyone." Hermione stared at him in disbelief as she watched him worriedly run a hand though his hair. She was struck with how handsome he was when he didn't have a scowl across his features, and she couldn't help but gasp.

"I won't tell anyone, but you have to promise me something."

Hermione instantly hung her head. This was it. He would ask her to do something humiliating, and she would do it, if just to keep her secret. Anyone finding out would be the worst possible course her life could take.

"I just want you to eat. Promise me you won't wither away into nothing." Hermione stared at him. That... That was not humiliating. He wanted her to promise to take care of herself? As it was, she wasn't sure she could do it. She hadn't really realized that she wasn't eating, per se. She just didn't have an appetite. When she did eat, it made her feel sick. Was food making her sick just because she wasn't used to eating? Or was food making her sick because having anything in her mouth reminded her of that horrible night.

"I don't need to hear you promise me. I just want you to take care of yourself." Draco watched as tears ran down her face. She had sat up slightly, so she was sitting on her haunches with her arms wrapped around herself. He sighed. He had seen the wheels turning in her head. He couldn't imagine how hard it must be to think without any energy to do so. He was about to speak again when the train door slid open.

"Oi! Malfoy, mate!... What the hell?"

Draco watched Hermione flinch and wrap her arms tighter around herself, her waist so small that her hands were gripping the back of her own waist. Then, he looked up at Theo. If anyone was going to find him _lounging_ on the floor with Hermione Granger a complete wreck, he would have wanted it to be Theo. He was just happy it wasn't one of the dimwitted duo that she called friends. As it was, Draco still shook his head at his friend.

"Malfoy... the train is pulling into the station. I... I was coming to ask you something." Theo shot a worried look at Hermione's back, when the hell had she gotten so small? Had she always been this small?

Draco sighed. Hermione needed to pull herself together. The train really was pulling into King's Cross, and she would need to go back to her friends to avoid suspicion. She could say she fell asleep back here, which was the truth. He reached out for her, but when her terrified eyes flashed to his, he dropped his hand.

"What do you want, Nott?" He winced at the tone of his voice, especially because Hermione had curved into herself a little bit more at the sound of his voice, a movement that did not go unnoticed by Theo.

"I..." Draco watched Theo rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit his friend had picked up.

"Theo. What do you want?" Draco saw Hermione's eyes dash up at him in surprise. There was a gentleness in his voice, no malice. She was surprised that he had used Nott's first name; she had only ever heard him use his friend's last names. She heard Theo's huge intake of breath from the front of the compartment.

"I know you know that my father was arrested with yours. I was hoping I could stay at Malfoy Manor instead of going back to Nott Estates. It's huge, and I don't want to be there by myself." Theo rushed through his words, saying them so fast that Hermione's panicked brain only picked up some of what he had said. She looked at Malfoy for answers on what Theo has said, and whimpered when he moved to stand. Malfoy was the enemy she knew. If he moved away from her, would Theo move in?

Draco froze in his move to get up and then settled back on the floor. He schooled his features so that Theo wouldn't ask anymore questions than he already had.

"Yeah, mate. That's fine. Mother will love having another person to simultaneously spoil and boss around. You know she loves you." Draco stated nonchalantly. He tried to keep his eyes on Theo, but Hermione wouldn't move. Save her initial flinch and rare glances at him, she had stayed perfectly still. He was getting worried that she wouldn't move out of the train car or even the car.

"Thanks. I'll tell the elves to come over to the manor. They will love seeing some of their family again. I might give them leave for a bit. Father was worse to them than he was to me." Theo sighed and made to turn out of the train car, but hesitated. He shot a worried glance at Granger, and Draco wished he would just leave.

"Hey, Granger." Hermione flinched when she heard Theo address her directly. She didn't move to look at him though. Maybe he would just go away. "You... You don't look right. Are you okay?"

Draco heaved a sigh. He knew Theo was asking because it was the right thing to do, but did he really have to ask if the walking skeleton that was Hermione Granger was alright? Obviously, she was not.

"She's fine, Nott." Hermione flinched and curled even further towards her legs. Draco brought a hand up to his hair and thumped his head back against the wall. Theo would not believe that she was alright after that.

"Gra...Hermione. Tell Theo you are fine." Hermione glanced up at Malfoy. She wasn't fine, but she didn't want Nott knowing that. Her thoughts were a mess. She couldn't think clearly.

What if Nott told people that she was back here? She opened her mouth to say something, but instead let out a choked sob, which had Theo moving forward. His mother may have died a long time ago, but she still raised him to care about a crying witch. He landed on his knees rather harshly slightly behind Hermione, causing her to jump and unconsciously scoot closer to Malfoy, bumping into his extended leg. Draco instantly had a hand on her hair again, playing with her curls.

Theo, seeing Draco's hand comforting her, thought he could possibly soothe her by rubbing her shoulder. Just as his hand made contact with Granger, she was screaming and scrambling onto Draco's lap. A move that had Draco looking a bit like a deer in headlights and also like a protector. Theo's hand recoiled so quickly, that he hit himself in the chest. After the immediate shock, Draco wrapped his arms tightly around Hermione while she cowered in his chest. He could just barely make out her please to not let Theo use her, She didn't want to be a slave, and she didn't want him to know or tell anyone. He stared down at her lifeless hair and sighed. His witch was extremely broken.

"Hermione." Draco tried to get her to stop murmuring into his chest so she would listen. He shook his shoulder and his chest on the side she decided to hide in. "Listen to me. Please."

Draco could feel Theo's look of confusion on him, and it was just making this more difficult. Hermione just continued making her pleas to his chest.

"Hermione. Listen! For crying out loud, witch." That had Hermione's breath hitching, and she seemed to be listening to what he was saying.

"Theo doesn't want you. He's not like that. I promise." Hermione barked out a laugh at that. "Okay. My promises mean nothing to you. I get that. But _listen_." Hermione just pulled herself tighter into Malfoy's chest. Part of her was finally starting to believe that he didn't want her body. But if he kept talking, Nott was going to figure it out, and that terrified her.

"Mate... what the..."

"Theodore Nott. If you know what's good for you, you will shut up. Or you can spend the summer at _your own_ house." Draco really needed Theo to shut up. Every time he spoke, Hermione clutched his blazer tighter and burrowed further into his chest. He was beginning to wonder if he was going to have a bruise with Hermione's facial features in his chest. Draco just looked down at her again and lifted a hand to play with her curls.

"Actually, Theo. Answer this." He stuck his friend with a vicious glare and then moved to tap Hermione's chin with a curved finger. "Hermione. I need you to listen to his answer. Okay?" He stared down at her until she made a small sound that sounded like agreement.

"Theo. Do you want to use Hermione's body? Would fucking her in any way be beneficial to you? And lastly, will you to tell anyone what you saw today?"

Theo just stared at his best mate completely gobsmacked. What the fuck was Draco getting at? Fuck Granger? Definitely not. He barely knew the girl. Besides, he had his eye on another witch, Draco even knew who it was. Why did he need this answered? He stared at Hermione and was even more shocked when she scrambled the rest of the way across Draco's lap and his herself against his side and began to whimper. What the bloody hell was happening.

Draco was loosing his temper. He knew Theo didn't want Hermione. He knew who Theo really wanted. He also knew Theo would never take an unwilling witch into his bed. As Theo continued to just open and close his mouth. Draco tightened his arm around Hermione and growled under his breath.

"God damnit, Theo! Answer the questions!" Draco knew raising his voice would startle Hermione, but he needed Theo to answer.

"I...Draco, you know I don't want Granger! You know who I like. Why would I muck that up with Granger..." Theo was stammering out. He recognized in that moment that Draco had entered his protective mode, which was both interesting and dangerous, as he was the one that Draco was in the defense towards.

Hermione felt Draco's sigh and then felt his breath on the top of her head.

"See, Hermione. Theo doesn't want to use you. You're safe with him." He felt Hermione's body begin to relax just a little bit. "You don't need to be scared of Theo. I'll make it clear that he can't tell anyone that you are such a wreck." He continued to murmur to her, causing her to relax just a little bit more into his side. He was happy when he saw her neck relax and her head not be tucked so tightly downwards. That's when he heard Theo cough. His eyes stayed on Hermione, and when she didn't tense up at the sound of Theo, he lifted his gaze to his friend, telling him with his eyes that he could speak.

"Umm... for what it's worth, Granger. I'm not going to tell anyone. But... you might want to go find your friends... They are probably looking for you." Theo began to rub his neck again. He was so out of his league. If only mother were still alive. He cleared his throat and finished what he had wanted to say. "They'll want answers if you don't go back."

Hermione sniffled and nodded. Harry and Ron would be insufferable if they didn't find her soon. Well, Harry was probably to busy flirting with Ginny to realize she was absent. Ron would be glowering. She had essentially run away when he was trying to make out with her. She felt Malfoy move beneath her, and she finally looked back up at his face. She let out a ragged breath when their eyes met; he looked so concerned for her.

"Do you think you can stand, Hermione?"

She nodded. She might be stiff, but she was calling on her strength now. If she could apparate to Muggle London without splinching herself _and_ walk into a hospital after what Dolohov did, she could walk out of a train car. Her eyes darted to the end of the train. She should say thank you, shouldn't she? What do you say to someone who saved you from killing yourself? Draco saw where she was looking and tried not to stiffen. He reluctantly removed his arms from around Hermione. He wanted to hold her until all the parts of her came back together. He also wanted to feed her.

He let his hands fall to his lap as he watched Hermione use his shoulder and then the wall to stand up. When she staggered a bit on her way past Theo, he instantly began to reach out to steady it, but dropped his hand when he thought better of it. Draco watched fretfully as she reached the end of the train car. She seemed to hesitate and let out a shaky breath. He stared at her face when she turned to him.

"Thank... Thank you for stopping me..." and then with one final breath, she opened the train door and walked away.

Draco sagged against the wall and brought his one leg up to his chest. He propped his arm on his knee and dragged his hand roughly through his hair. He had stopped Hermione from jumping of the train. She had admitted that Dolohov had whipped her. He knew Dolohov had done more than that, though. He had held her while she sobbed, while she slept. He had made her promise him that she wouldn't wither away from not eating. He had protected her from the imaginary threat of Theo. He had comforted her through her terror. That was not what their first real conversation was supposed to be like.

Theo cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Draco, but _what the fuck was that!?!"_

Draco just stared back at his friend. He couldn't tell Theo, not everything at least. Would saying Dolohov's name be too much of a give away? His thoughts were racing. He needed to tell somebody, but who? He simply could not handle this on his own. He felt like his own heart was being ripped apart.

"Mate. You made me tell her I wouldn't rape her! Why would she think I would do that? Or that in exchange I wouldn't tell anyone that she was a crying mess and you were comforting her." Theo had gotten up and started pacing. None of it made sense. None of it. Gryffindor's princess did not cower at the feet of a Slytherin. She certainly didn't seek comfort from Slytherin's prince. And why would she immediately jump to sex as a way of keeping him quiet? Any person worth their salt would bargain her doing their homework if they wanted something from her in return for their silence. Why would she be terrified of sex?

Draco watched as Theo paced and then froze.

"Draco... No. No, she wasn't. She's too brilliant. No no no. I don't believe it." He fell to his knees where he stood, and Draco watched all the color drain out of his friend's face. "She was raped."

Draco just sat there with his hand twisted in his hair. So, he didn't have to say anything. He wasn't surprised. Theo was smart. He was extremely logical. Draco wasn't surprised that he had figured it out.

"No. She wasn't... she's a force to be reckoned with. She wasn't _just_ raped was she? No. Only torture would have her this fucked up in the head... Offering herself in return for people's silence." Theo just sat there shaking his head back and forth. Who would do this? He wracked his brain for answers. He stared at Draco, but Draco just stared at the wall across from him. That's when it hit him. He knew who it was. Draco had seen horrors beyond measure. Voldemort had loved torturing Narcissa to get Lucius to do his bidding. There was only one person who was worst than Voldemort in the breaking of women department.

"No..." Theo basically breathed out. Draco's eyes darted to his friend. Theo had apparently thought through the options. "That's why... that's why he wasn't caught. He wasn't at the Ministry anymore. That's where she had disappeared to." Theo just shook his head back and forth, not wanting to believe it but knowing nothing else could be true. Draco just continued to stare at him.

"But... Crabbe's father got away too... You don't thin..." Before Theo could finish his sentence, Draco was on his feet, screaming, and sending his fist through the wall of the hallway.

"I guess you didn't think of it." Theo sighed as he hung his head. "Dolohov and Crabbe Sr.. It's no wonder she's messed up."

Theo watched Draco walk to the very back of the train and throw open the door. His hands gripped the railing hard, turning his knuckles white.

"I will kill them, Theo. They are dead. They hurt my witch, and they will pay."

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**Ope. Looks like another chapter is done. Not where I was planning to go with this chapter... but it happened. I'm pretty happy with the finished product.****Please review! **


	11. Chapter 11

**I got tired of naming chapters. It felt like I was putting too much thought into them, and I don't really like half the chapter titles I have. So... I'm abandoning that. **

**I hope you guys loves the last chapter. Honestly, it is nothing at all similar to what I had planned. The train chapter was supposed to be over by now, but my fingers were just going.****Draco is going away for a little bit, but I promise we will see him a bit, just not interacting with Hermione.**

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Hermione heard the train car door click shit behind her. She needed to get her shaking under control. Malfoy and Nott were right, her friends would have questions. She would think of something to say; she had no other choice, too many people knew already. Nott was smart. He coul and would deduce that something happened. Just as she was coming to the realization that Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott, of all people, knew her secret, she was out of time to think of excuses.

"'Mione! There you are!" Ron was speed walking down the hallway towards her. "Where did you go!? You went off with Lavender and never returned?" Ron was gripping her shoulders rather tightly, and it took all of her self-control to not whimper.

"We... Lavender just wanted to talk. She had questions about whether she did the practical of... of the potions exam right?" Hermione internally smiled at herself. She was getting good at lying to other people, now if she could just lie to herself.

"Lavender... wanted to ask you, a girl she makes fun of at least once a day, about exams, which she cares very little for?" Ron's fingers tightened just a little bit. "I don't believe you."

Hermione was terrified. Ron's temper had truly arrived. They were in the hallway of the train, anyone could see them. What was she going to do...

"You were gone for an hour and a half, 'Mione!" Hermione stared at Ron wide-eyed. He was raising her voice at her. She wasn't a good girl. She was _going_ to get hit.

"No way Lavender took that long to ask a question." Ron finally released he, crossed his arms, and glared at Hermione.

Hermione fought not to cower into herself.

"Well... I... La... I didn't.. sleep much, yes. I didn't sleep much during exams." That much was true, but it wasn't actually because of exams. "After Lavender left... I went into an empty compartment. I just meant to rest in silence, but... I must have fallen asleep."

Ron humphed. That was believable. Now that the stress of exams was gone, Hermione would sleep like the dead. She just usually waited until she got home.

"Oh... okay. I just wanted to spend time with you" Ron sulked and reached out to take Hermione's hand, and she reluctantly let him.

"Let's go meet up with Harry and Ginny. Are your parents meeting you here this time? Or are you coming to the Burrow?"

Hermione allowed herself to be dragged along and only half listened. She just wanted to sleep. To sleep and not do anything at all, for months. She didn't care if she prepped for sixth year. She just wanted sleep. Maybe in sleep, she would forget all that Dolohov did to her.

"Mione? So, what is it? Your parents picking you up?" Hermione's head shot up to look at Ron. Oh, he had already asked her that, didn't he?

"Oh, you know my parents always pick me up, Ron." She smiled sympathetically, hoping to convey that she wouldn't be able to come to the Burrow. She tried not to react when she saw how sad that made Ron.

"Oh... Oh, no worries. I just thought it would be fun. Ya know?" Ron squeezed her hand tighter as they continued walking back to their compartment.

"Ron, you know I'll be over later in the Summer. I just miss my parents." Ron shrugged. Maybe Hermione should say more.

"The Ministry is hooking my house up to the Floo Network." Ron stopped in his tracks, spun towards her, and grinned from ear to ear. "But you can't just show up! I'll call you. It is for me to communicate with the wizarding world, _not_ for the wizarding world to communicate with me." She watched as Ron's shoulders dropped a bit. "You never know when my parents might have friends over."

"Yeah, I guess you are right. It's nice that you will have the Floo available, though." Just as Ron finished his statement, they had reached their compartment. To the great dismay of Ron, Ginny was sitting on Harry's lap and beaming down at him.

* * *

Hermione realized how truly exhausted she was as she started to heave her Hogwarts trunk off the train. The one downside of not being able to stomach food was that she was getting weaker by the hour. As much as it hurt that Ron nor Harry had noticed her rapidly declining weight, she was thankful that she didn't have them needling her about what was wrong. To keep it that way, she struggled in silence and as quickly as possible. She just had to get her trunk to a cart, and then she would be fine. Her dad would put it in the boot for her.

She could feels eyes on her, but she didn't dare turn around. Would it be Lavender, genuinely concerned for her well-being? Would it be Malfoy, the boy who had saved her from killing herself and knew part of her secret? Would it be Nott, Malfoy's friend who knew too much solely because he saw her break down? Or were the eyes on her back some other Slytherin, a Slytherin Malfoy had told? Was she in danger? Or just being watched?

Before her panic attack could become full-fledged, Mrs. Weasley was wrapping her in a tight hug, causing Hermione to wince.

"Oh, my Merlin, girl! Have you been eating? You're nothing but skin and bones!" Mrs. Weasley kept a tight grasp around Hermione while also spinning to glare daggers at her youngest son. "Ronald Weasley! You wrote home that you and Hermione were finally dating and that she was fine!" At this, Mrs. Weasley let go of Hermione, only to grab her shoulders and spin her to face Ron. "Does this look fine to you!?! Does it!"

Hermione was lost to the world around her. Mrs. Weasley couldn't possibly know better, but her manhandling of Hermione was just making her panic, not to mention her lack of eating being called to attention in the middle of the platform. She was just thankful that Mr. Weasley was there.

"Molly, dear," came Arthur's steady voice. Hermione could feel that Mr. Weasley had gently taken hold of Mrs. Weasley's arms by the weight change on her shoulders. "You know how Hermione is, she probably got so wrapped up in her studies. Isn't that right, Hermione?"

Hermione couldn't speak. If she spoke, her voice would crack, and where would she be then? She looked around frantically, searching for a way out when she knew there was none. That's when she locked eyes with Lavender.

Lavender could see Hermione's face. She had seen how Mrs. Weasley had whipped her around, tightly gripping her shoulders. She knew she had to intervene, but how? Hermione's eyes left hers. Apparently, Lavender was taking too long. Lavender was still watching Hermione when she saw Hermione's eyes lock with someone else's. Lavender followed the direction of Hermione's look and almost stumbled back in surprise. Hermione was all out pleading with Draco Malfoy to come and save her, and it looked like Malfoy was going to.

If Hermione had any chance at keeping her secret from her friends and the rest of the Weasley clan, Draco Malfoy could not get involved. Of that, Lavender was certain. If Malfoy walked over there and tried to rescue Hermione from her impending panic attack, everyone would know that something was up. Before Lavender could really think of a plan, her feet were carrying her towards the Weasley', and she was calling out for Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was confused to hear Lavender, but she turned towards the girl and dropped her hands from Hermione's shoulders.

"Lavender? What is it, child? You sound troubled." Mrs. Weasley asked, always the mother hen.

"Oh... Well, my mom doesn't really cook..." Lavender glanced at Hermione and wished that she could silently tell Hermione to just get out of here. "And... well... I'm tired of having to rely on other people..." Mrs. Weasley tut-tutted at that. great... "so... so I was wondering.." Hermione finally seemed to figure out that Lavender had saved her, and she uttered a quick goodbye and then started pushing her cart away. "I want to learn how to cook."

Mrs. Weasley was so excited. She had been so excited when she had a daughter. She thought it would mean days in the kitchen together, but Ginny followed her brothers in every way. The only thing Ginny felt she needed to learn how to make was a sandwich.

"Oh, Lavender! I'd love to help you learn to cook!" Without a moment's notice, Lavender found herself in Mrs. Weasley's grasp, quickly getting the air hugged out of her chest. "You just come over to the Burrow any time. Just floo ahead to make sure we're in."

"Oh.. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley..." Lavender caught Hermione's bushy head disappearing through the wall to the Muggle side of King's Cross. "Well... I really have to be going. Bye!" and with that, Lavender quickly walked away.

She didn't actually want to learn to cook, but she couldn't watch Hermione have panic attack after panic attack. As much she didn't like the girl, she knew what it was to face the aftermath of trauma. As she got further away, she heard the Weasley's plus Harry start to question where Hermione had run off to. Lavender's stunt didn't save Hermione from having to face her friends, but it did buy her time. As Lavender reached the line to enter the Muggle world, she looked back at Malfoy. He had his head bowed and Narcissa Malfoy appeared to have tears running down her cheeks. They were probably talking about Lucius Malfoy, but... Draco Malfoy seemed to be doing all the talking while his mother looked sickened and grief-strickened.

* * *

Draco's eyes bored into Hermione's back as he watched her weak body struggle with her trunk. Everything in him wanted to help her, but he knew he couldn't. He was also furious that her friends didn't seem to notice. How could the people who _loved_ her be so blind to her struggle. He briskly walked over to where his mother always waited for him while keeping his eyes on Hermione. He flinched and grimaced when he saw how roughly the Weasley matriarch handled his witch.

"Oh, my darling boy!" Draco felt his mother's palms against both of his cheeks and he couldn't help but to let a small smile grace is features. "I'm so glad you are alright!"

Draco reached down and wrapped his arms tightly around his mother's waist. She had always been petite in physical size, though she dominated a room with her regal attitude. No one but himself knew how truly loving she could be. Thinking of how small she naturally was only made his stomach flip at how _unnaturally_ small his witch was--an emotion that did not go unnoticed by his mother.

"My boy," Narcissa gently murmured. She pulled away slightly to look in his eyes, and her heart fell to the floor with the pain she saw reflected there. "Whatever is the matter?"

Draco just shook his head while releasing his mother, opting to stand there. He couldn't help it, and he looked over to Hermione. He instantly wanted to hex someone, better yet, he wanted to physically harm someone with his fists. Hermione looked exactly like she did when Theo had tried to comfort her but resulted in terrifying her. He wanted to stalk over to the Weasley brood, tuck Hermione under his arm, and stalk away with her. He wanted to protect her.

That's when Hermione's eyes met his. The entire platform seemed to be doused in red according to Draco's vision. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and he could tell by the look on her face that she wished he hadn't stopped her. Without another thought, he curled his hands into fists and started to march towards Hermione.

Theo was instantly in front of him with his hands up, practically pushing on Draco's chest. Theo then started pointing and desperately pleading with his friend to stop. Draco's vision cleared slightly, and he allowed his attention to drift slightly to the right, where he saw Lavender bustling towards Hermione. Lavender would save her. She had noticed that Hermione wasn't okay. He allowed himself to drift back the few steps towards his mother, who was instantly asking what was going on. He bowed his head and took a deep, stuttering breath.

"You've always known who, mother." He sighed as he heard his mother's sharp intake of breath.

"But... Your father..."

"He's in prison! Dammit!" Malfoy shouted, drawing the attention of some nearby families. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Sorry, mother."

"Okay. Yes. I've always known. What of her?" Narcissa fought her nature of putting her hands on her hips, and instead settled for lacing her fingers in front of her.

"We... We actually talked today, mother." Draco looked at his mother's face then, and she was shocked that she was greeted with tears of pain and sorrow in his eyes instead of the excitement she expected to see there. She instantly moved to put a loving hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, no matter, dear boy. Show her you love her. She will come around."

Draco shook his head. She misinterpreted why he was going to cry. He wasn't crying because Hermione had rejected him. In fact, he thought he might be the first person she had told anything to. He took a deep breath to steady himself for the sentence we was about to say.

"Dolohov wasn't arrested because he wasn't there." His mother moved to interrupt him, but he rushed out the next part as quickly and quietly as he could. "He wasn't there because he had her someplace."

He watched as his mother staggered back, one hand over her mouth and the other over her heart. Her eyes were full of terror and her mind was racing. Dolohov had forced Lucius to participate in the breaking of some his "toys" and though Lucius was a cold, unfeeling man, what Dolohov did to the poor women he captured made even Lucius nauseous.

"No." Narcissa was instantly back in front her son, bracing a palm against his cheek. "Please, Draco, please. Tell me that isn't true." But one look at her son's face, seeing how utterly broken he was, she knew that it was true. She couldn't help the tears falling down her cheeks. Her heart truly broke for the girl. That she was able to be around people at all was a testament to her strength.

"Mother..." Draco's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat to continue talking. "Please. Just take us to the Manor."

Narcissa nodded and reached for his hand.

"Oh. And Theo will be staying with us this summer."

She stared at her son. He never spoke to her with such little emotion, he only talked like that to his father or the Dark Lord. She simply nodded to Draco and then Theo, and apparated them home.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. My mind just wouldn't write for awhile. I'm still trying to decide how I want the summer between 5th and 6th year to go, so bare with me for updates.**

* * *

Hermione rushed through the platform into the Muggle world. She fought back the tears and looked around for her parents. As soon as she saw their smiling faces, she raced towards them with her cart. She couldn't help but to smile as Crooks let out a particularly loud howl at the site of her parents. He always acted like such a grump.

She ignored her parents faltering smiles as they took in her weight, and envelopes them in tight hugs. Both her parents hugged her tight and grimaced when they could feel how much slimmer she had gotten. They also knew that they couldn't bring it up. Hermione was a control freak, and if you pestered her about doing something, she would refuse to do just to prove a point on power of wills.

Her father pulled away, cupped her face, and laid a kiss atop her forehead before taking control of her cart.

"Let's get you and this poofball home before he escapes into the station again." Hermione let out a half-hearted laugh as she started walking, unbeknownst to her, her parents shared a worried look.

"How about we stop and get some ice cream you love so much, dear? You know the place" her mum started waving her hand about, trying to think of the name of the ice cream parlor. "Oh, the one in Swindon. I can't think of the name."

Hermione stared at her mum. They hadn't gone there since after her third year. She knew that was only two years ago, but once exams started getting harder, she was normally asleep in the backseat before they were even out of London. Her parents were normally content to make the drive back to Bristol just listening to the radio and idly chatting. They never woke her for a stop unless the stop was their home.

"I don't know..." Hermione was hedging around actually answering.

"Oh, come on, champ! Just took your OWLs, you deserve a reward." Her father clapped her on her shoulder, causing Hermione to hold back a flinch. She knew it was her father, but just because she knew she was safe did not mean that her body knew that.

"I... I guess if I'm awake when we pass through Swindon we can stop." Hermione shrugged. Maybe she would be asleep and she wouldn't have to go.

Her dad took his hand away and tugged on one of her curls like he always did.

She watched as her dad lifted her trunk into the boot of the car, and she held Crooks' cage tight to her chest. She looked down at him and grimaced sadly as he mewled up at her in sadness. He truly was an intelligent creature. He always picked up on her emotions. She slid into the back seat, buckled up, and nestled in against the car door. Once they were under way out of London, she let Crooks out, and he immediately jumped up onto her lap and started to purr, which quickly lulled her to sleep.

Much to Hermione's chagrin, Crookshanks took it upon himself to begin kneading her throat just outside of Swindon, effectively waking her up when his claws obnoxiously scratched at her. Her mum was super excited that they were going to get ice cream, and Hermione tried to muster up some enthusiasm so her parents wouldn't pester her.

When they pulled up to the ice cream parlor, Crooks stepped into his carrier with no issue. Hermione humphed at him. He planned this. He intended to wake her up. He always fought his carrier.

* * *

Hermione's parents loved her, to that there was no doubt, and although they knew not to push her to talk about what was bothering her, they always tried their luck with pushing her buttons so she would finally talk. Rape, though, that wasn't something any amount of button pushing would get Hermione to open up about.

As Hermione sat with her bowl of ice cream outside on the patio of the shop, she remembered back to easier days when she was surprised that her parents wanted to stop at a place that drowned in sugar. She had been raised on limited sugar intake for the most part. Her parents prided themselves in Hermione's dental hygiene habits when most of their friends struggled to get their kids to take care of their teeth. To go to an ice cream parlor and indulge was strange, but she quickly learned that her parents did have a sweet teeth, and the only time the indulged it was when they were traveling, which they did on every trip to drop off and pick up Hermione (four times a year if you count dropping her off at the station and returning home as one trip) and their annual adventure abroad. As Hermione mainly just played with her cake batter ice cream, her mother's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Oh, dear" Her mum gushed, " I'm just so happy you're home. Do you remember Rupert? Diane's boy from a few blocks over?"

Hermione blankly nodded. Of course she remembered Rupert. Their parents had only been trying to force the together since they were in nappies.

"Well, he's grown into quite a young man. Isn't that right, Wendell?" Hermione watched as her mum lightly backhanded her dad's chest. She smiled to herself. Her dad really did live in a world of his own making the majority of the time.

"Oh, umm" Her dad looked sheepishly at Hermione. He knew she hated this. "He has grown up a bit. Filled out those ears of his, he has. But he's no man, yet, Mon. They are only 16!"

Hermione saw her mother humph and look into the shop. That's when she noticed the young man who was staring at her from another table. He seemed oblivious of his friends and just continued to stare at Hermione. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked down into her bowl of ice cream. If she ate it quickly, maybe her parents would be happy to get home. With a grimace, she began to shovel the ice cream into her mouth, careful to not look panicked or rushed. In no time, her ice cream was gone, and she was getting up to throw her dish in the bin.

To do so, however, she had to walk close to the table of the man who still hadn't stopped staring at her. She swallowed stiffly and grabbed her parents dishes as well. She steeled herself when she saw the man stand up as she neared the trash bin. She thought she had avoided him when she felt his breath moving her hair.

"I couldn't help to notice you." Hermione froze. There were people all around. She couldn't fight this man with punches or her magic. She would get in so much trouble. That's when she felt his hand on her waist, gently pulling her back into his chest.

"You looked so innocent." The man basically purred into her ear. "Sitting there with your ankles crossed eating ice cream with your parents. I saw how you licked that spoon."

Hermione did nothing but stand there. Her mind wasn't going into fight mode or flight mode. Instead, much to her horror, her mind was going into shutdown mode. Later, she would start to call this her slut-trained mode, but that wouldn't be for a while. As it was, Hermione did nothing as the man moved her hair away and nipped at her ear. She couldn't help but shudder at the sensation.

"I wonder what your tongue would feel like on my cock." The man had wrapped his arms around Hermione's tiny waist. To all the world, they looked like a couple having a flirtatious moment, and not a sleazeball assaulting a traumatized teen.

Just as the man started to talk again, Hermione's mother called out that it was time to get on the road again. Hermione instantly started untangling herself from the man. He resisted at first, but when he heard her mother's voice again, he finally dropped his arms and stepped away.

Hermione bustled her way to the car and into the back seat. She didn't look at either of her parents when she reached the car or got into it, instead, she immediately buckled herself and unlocked Crooks' carrier. Instantly, the orange poof was on her lap, meowing and headbutting her face. His mistress was distressed, and that was the last thing he had wanted when he woke her up for ice cream. When she stopped clutching his fur, he started to purr, putting her right back to sleep until the reached their home on the outskirts of Bristol.

* * *

Hermione was awakened by her mom patting her knee. Apparently, Hermione had been whimpering in her sleep, a common occurrence at the end of term.

"Hermione," her mother admonished when she saw her daughter's eyes open, "I know you passed with flying colors. No need to have nightmares."

Hermione chuckled quietly and just nodded. While it was true nightmares about failing plagued her after term until her results came in, she had not been having a nightmare about her grades. She had been having a nightmare about Dolohov. She tried to push it away so that she could at least make it to her room. Luckily, her parents didn't fight her on her desire to sleep.

* * *

_Entering Hermione's Dreams_

_Hermione was still tied to that horrible horse. She was lost in pain and pleasure, so she could barely make out what Crabbe Sr. and Dolohov were arguing about. All she knew was that she was ashamed._

_Dolohov had made her poop on the floor, if that's what you could call an explosion of shit water from your bowels. He had whipped her, which resulted in her riding a dildo while it was up her ass. He had tied her down and given her the illusion of the choice on where to take a dildo this time, a dildo coated in aphrodisiacs and chilli oil, a dildo that would cause her pleasure and pain. Then, when she didn't please him enough, he had poured chilli oil up her ass. She could feel it seeping out of her and down her bleeding vulva and into her vagina. She squirmed in discomfort. If the pain wasn't bad enough, she had also orgasmed twice. The first time by fucking herself back on the dildo with it up her ass with wild abandon. The second time was when Crabbe Sr. was toying with her. Even though she was in underlying pain, it wouldn't have been as mortifying to her in hindsight if it had strictly been clitoral stimulation. Instead, just has her orgasm hit, Crabbe Sr. had shoved three of his stocky fingers up her ass._

_She was utterly broken. Dolohov had told her to call her sir or daddy, and she went with Daddy. He had told her to do something, and she tried. She hated failing, and even though counting the lashes of the whip wasn't something she particularly wanted to excel at, she was still ashamed that she had failed. She was also ashamed that she had failed Daddy by not fucking the dildo right. The pain was horrible, but Daddy had shown her what happened to girls who didn't listen and didn't please. Her bleeding breasts, stomach, and vulva could attest to that._

_Crabbe Sr. and Dolohov were still talking, but she needed her Daddy. She needed to know that he wasn't mad. If was mad, she would get hurt again. As it was, his scream had scared her. What had happened to her daddy?_

_"Daddy?" Hermione whispered towards the floor. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to talk, and started shaking when she heard the voices cease._

_"What did she just call you?!?" Crabbe Sr asked in disbelief while walking around to Hermione's face. He was stopped by Dolohov grabbing his arm._

_"Ahh. Mudblood. I see you learned how to address your superiors." Dolohov all but cackled. "Did you need something?" Dolohov smirked at Crabbe Sr. as he reached out and started messaging his slave's ass. Hermione felt his hand and pushed her ass higher while whimpering._

_"I..." Hermione broke down into sobs._

* * *

Hermione woke to a tapping on her bedroom window. She was extremely disoriented. Her first thought was that the tapping was something that Dolohov was going to beat her with. Her second thought was wondering why Dolohov had clothed her in her regular pajamas. How did he get them? But as she opened her eyes, she realized that she was safe in her childhood bedroom. Well, safe from physical harm at the hands of Dolohov and Crabbe Sr.

She rubbed her eyes roughly. The tapping at the window was driving her insane. She slowly sad up in bed and turned to see a regular barn owl at the window. It must be the Ministry owl asking when she wanted the Floo set up. She huffed a sigh and went to the window, letting the owl fly into her to alight on the back of her desk chair.

Hermione slowly walked over to the owl and reached out to take the letter tied around the owl's leg. She immediately recognized the seal and was pleased with herself for still maintaining her intelligence in the face of her trauma.

She quickly scribbled out a note apologizing for the change of plans, but under no circumstances was her fireplace to be activated and attached to the Floo Network.

She had told Ron that she was having it set up, but with the letter from the Ministry staring her in the face, Hermione became panicked with the prospect that any wizard could shove their head into her fire place and see her. It just wouldn't do.

She set the owl off with her response and immediately fell back into bed, wincing at the memory of her nightmare, both the real one and what she had dreamt.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi, y'all. I apologize in advance if this feels like teeth pulling. I'm spiraling pretty badly right now, and this part is not easy to write. I'm pulling on my depression and trauma for Hermione's reactions.****Please practice self care while you read. I'm reachable through my Facebook page for this, LiterarianRose FanFic.****Onto the story!**

* * *

The next week passed much of the same way the first day at home did. She slept and had nightmares.

Ron had sent Errol multiple times, but Hermione just gave him a treat and sent him back to the Weasley's with the letters still attached to his leg. Hedwig was harder to send away without taking the letter, so Hermione would take the letter from her, give her a treat, and then throw the letter out as soon as Hedwig flew away.

Hermione was not interested in talking to her friends. Now that she was home and allowed herself to wallow, she was angry at them for not noticing her pain. How could they not realize she had stopped eating? How could they not notice the bags under her eyes? They were supposed to be her best friends, but instead, a girl she shared a mutual hatred with and her enemy from day one noticed and called her out on it. Malfoy had even made her promise to eat. She felt a little guilty for not following through on her unspoken promise, but she also didn't owe Malfoy anything.

At the moment, Hermione was sitting cross-legged in the middle of her back yard. Her parents had left for the practice after waking her up to tell her that they had prepared her a lunch. She wouldn't eat it. Just like all the other meals they had prepared her over the last week. She took vitamins and drank water. Sometimes, she would drink a Gatorade just to appease her parents. They seemed to like when she consumed calories.

As soon as her parents left, she went outside. The grass was itchy on her legs, but the irritation had faded sometime around noon. The sun was starting to set, so she knew her parents would be home soon. The only time

she had moved throughout the day was to go inside to the bathroom, but she rarely had to go. Sitting outside made her feel better. It felt like an illusion of productivity. After all, doctors always said that fresh air could cure all ills. Hermione scoffed at the idea now. How could fresh air cure her of her memories of a whip against her vagina.

Crooks kept her company most days, but today, a female cat had wandered into the yard, and Crooks had chased her around before following her off somewhere. As it was, though, Hermione didn't care that she was alone. She didn't really think of anything while she sat alone all day, every day. She just stared at the world around her, her eyes seeing but her mind not noticing.

Her blank stares were the reason why she hadn't heard or seen her father come out to sit in front of her. She only noticed when he reached out to touch her. She was immediately scrambling back and begging not to be hurt. Her begs to not be hurt immediately turned into apologies for thinking she had a say.

Hermione's father froze where he sat. He came out here to see if she would eat just a little something, maybe part of a muffin with jam or honey on it. Instead, his daughter had scrambled away, begged him not to hurt her, and then apologized for assuming she had a say. He didn't know what to think, but what he knew was that something terrible had happened to his daughter. He would try to intercept one of the owls next time they came and get a letter to Professor McGonagall. He knew how much Hermione admired the woman. He just hoped that she could help.

His first priority, however, was to get his daughter to calm down. He figured he would start by talking to her in a soothing voice, and she did seem to still her body's panic, but her eyes were still frantic.

"Hermione... Mi... You're safe here. No one will hurt you. Your mom just wants you to eat. Please. I.." Hermione's eyes were calming down, and she stared at her dad. "I want you to eat. Please, sweetheart, just a few bites? For us?"

Hermione stared at her dad. They never came out here. Her parents would call out from the backdoor that they were home, then that they were eating, and then when they were going to bed. She slowly crossed her legs again and swallowed roughly.

"I... I'm not" Hermione made the mistake of looking at her dad just then, and hesitated. He looked so pained and worried. She could eat a few bites. Just for him. "I... a few bites... of... Shepherd's Pie?"

Her father beamed at her, and she felt proud of herself. She was doing something right. Before Hermione could stop herself, she immediately thought _"I won't get hurt tonight." _She wasn't even really aware of the fact that she associated her father's pride with not getting whipped, she just knew she was safe for that moment.

"Of course! I'll bring you out some!" Hermione stared after her father as he rushed inside. She could see him animatedly talking to her mum. Then, both her parents disappeared to the kitchen.

Hermione hated eating. Since she hadn't been eating much at all, there was nothing to cause a bowel movement. Her colon remained mostly empty. She didn't want to have to poop, and she certainly did not want an enema again. Having anything come out of her rear just brought horrible memories to mind.

Her father returned after awhile with a heaping serving of Shepherd's Pie, which immediately made Hermione balk. Her father noticed and his anxiety grew.

"You... you don't have to eat it all." Hermione internally frowned at the pain in her father's voice. "I... I just wanted to give you the option of more without you having to move."

Hermione nodded and took the bowl. The sheer weight of a bowl full of food had her arms instantly shaking, and she lowered it down onto her crossed legs, not noticing the burns that started on her legs from the heat of the bowl.

Ever so slowly, she picked up the fork and scooped a little tiny bit of the potatoes onto it. She knew she needed to eat. She could feel her father's eyes on her hand. She knew she was breaking her parent's hearts, she just couldn't find it in herself to care.

Before she could change her mind, she touch a bite.

Hermione instantly remembered why Shepherd's Pie was one of her favorite dishes, especially her mother's. The dish was always so flavorful and homey. It was practically comfort on a fork. Before she realized what she was doing, she was putting huge forkfuls of food into her mouth.

In that instant, she couldn't remember why she hadn't been eating. All she knew was that food was delicious. But when she heard her father take in a shuddering breath, she was drawn from her desire to eat for comfort. The noise her father had made had reminded her of the shuddering breaths she had taken when Dolohov had kicked her in the stomach until she couldn't hold her bowels anymore.

Hermione was sick to her stomach. Not only because eating meant she would have to poop, but also because she had just gorged herself after weeks of not eating any true substanice. She quickly got up from the ground and marched herself up to her room.

Hermione laid down on her bed, wincing at the feeling of a full stomach, and began to sob again. She didn't want to sleep. She didn't want to have nightmares, but even staying awake didn't stop her from feeling the pain Dolohov had put her through. Nothing helped. She contemplated then if life was worth it. She was pretty sure that she would never be able to function again, so why bother with the charade. If only Malfoy, bloody fucking Malfoy, hadn't stopped her from jumping. She wouldn't be in this turmoil now.

Before she knew it, she was fast asleep lost in the same nightmare: what would have happened if Dolohov hadn't let Crabbe Sr. deposit her in Hogsmeade.

* * *

_Dolohov was behind her while Crabbe Sr stood in front of her. She needed to be punished more for not pleasing her Daddy. Maybe it would make him feel better. She knew a cry of pain when she heard one. She just needed to stop crying from her embarrassment and then she would ask._

_"You wanted something, Mudblood," Dolohov took this opportunity to smear the chilli oil leaking out of her ass into her cunt. He loved watching her squirm in pain._

_"Mudblood," Dolohov punctuated her title with a rough slap to her ass. "What did you want?"_

_Hermione swallowed roughly. She needed to speak. She looked up at Crabbe Sr and noticed that he was rubbing his bulge while staring at her. She would behave. She had to. But first, she needed to be properly punished for not doing what her Daddy had asked her.__Hermione swallowed again._

_"I... I need to be punished" Hermione blinked her eyes tight. "I displeased you, Daddy. I didn't listen." She had to stifle a sob to continue. She didn't want to be whipped, but she needed a punishment."I need you to whip me again."_

_Dolohov and Crabbe Sr locked eyes over Hermione's bound form. She wanted to be punished? Not only punished, but whipped as well. Dolohov was excited that she was already so broken, but he wanted to break her more. He just had to think of how. Who was he kidding, he knew exactly how: take away her belief that she was human, that she was even an "I" entity._

_Dolohov__ walked away from Hermione to his array of hitting instruments. He also wondered if he should clamp her nipples for this punishment. She would look pretty with dark purple nipples, and her screams when he released them would be exquisite. Now, did he want her to associate immense pain with orgasms this soon... Yes, yes he did.__He picked up a vibrator with a rabbit vibrator attachment, nipple clamps, and a cane. She would learn her place quickly. With everything gathered in his hands, he turned back to Hermione's bond form. _

* * *

Hermione awoke in the dead of night in a cold sweat. Her feet were tangled in her blankets, and Crooks was curled up in the corner of her bed by her pillow... a location that kept him safe from her flailing legs and arms and from her tossing her head back forth. As soon as she took her first ragged breath before her sobs, Crooks was on her chest headbutting her. Unlike most cats, he didn't stretch before he moved. His mistress needed him, and he would be there.

She wrapped her arms tightly around Crooks while sitting up. He hated to be held like this, but he had accepted it every single night since she had returned from... from Dolohov. She wanted to call it her rape. She really did, but she didn't know how to accept what had happened. And he didn't just rape her. No. Is it possible for one to rape one's self? She felt like that was what Dolohov had made her do. And him and Crabbe Sr. had played her body like a fiddle, knowing exactly how to manipulate her into her orgasms, just confusing her mind.

She was a little over a month out from the ordeal, and she still felt everything like it was yesterday. She was utterly humiliated. She had cum by... by fucking herself in the ass while also getting burnt from chilli oil. Then, she had cum again from Crabbe Sr. She wasn't sure if he noticed, but her orgasm had grown in strength when he had slammed his fingers into her ass. He had done it so quickly, without any warning, that he had caused more pain. Her asshole had torn from the enlarged dildo, and those cuts had been on fire from the chilli oil. When he had slammed his fingers into her, the cuts had reopened a little bit more, perhaps they had even gotten bigger.

Was her reaction due to what had already transpired, or was her reaction truly who she was? Did she enjoy pain? Would pain always heighten her orgasms? Being the academic that she was, she knew that research was in order. She cringed at the realization that this problem, these questions, required practical applications. It didn't really matter, though. Now, after he virginity had been roughly torn from her being, sex meant nothing. All Hermione really wanted was to not get punished.

Hermione finally released Crooks and laid back down. Maybe there were resources online that she could use. Since the internet was just getting started, she wondered if she would be able to find anything from rape victims. After all, part of her reasons for staying silent were based in the fact that she didn't know a single person who had been raped. Rape was not talked about. It was shameful.

For the first time in weeks, Hermione fell asleep with a research plan on her mind instead of fear for the terrors that would come while she slept.


	14. Doing Research

**Sorry it has been awhile. I have no excuse other than depression. Well. I'm also working on a different story that is not as traumatic.**

* * *

Hermione awoke shortly before noon the next day and went to eat the lunch her parents had prepped for her. She only ate a few bites, but if she was going to do in-the-field research, she needed to make sure she was conscious enough to take in her surroundings. Then, she showered and tried to tame her mane.

She still sat in the backyard until nightfall, but her mind was whirling with a plan. She again had to send Errol and Hedwig off, but Hedwig had stuck around and visited her parents, which she thought was extremely odd. Although, she couldn't find the energy or mental faculties to spare on figuring out why Hedwig had stayed.

When her dad called out to her that they were headed to bed, she got up from the grass and went up to her room. She threw on a pair of skinny jeans, which by this point looked more like boyfriend jeans, and a light jumper. She shoved her feet into a pair of black ankle booties and headed out in her dad's car to the club district of Bristol.

She was a woman, and she would get attention. Now, she just needed to figure out what club to go to and how to get in. Her decision was made for her when a guy, probably in his mid-twenties, broke off from his friends and walked over to her.

"Hey, sweetie!" Hermione looked at him and noticed that he was a combination of Harry and Ron. The guy was tall and had freckles, like Ron. Also like Ron, the man had azure blue eyes. Harry's features were in this man through his messy black hair and his glasses. If Hermione was being honest with herself, she would admit that this man wore the glasses a lot better and was just overall very attractive.

Hermione made a point to play with the hem of her jumper and look up at the man through her eyelashes. She knew she looked the part of easy prey, but she also knew that strength didn't keep her safe. Tonight was all about seeing how much pain would be inflicted on her if she was demure. Honestly, she doubted any attitude she had would make a difference.

The man had reached her, and with a glance over his shoulders at his friends, decided to press his luck with this waif of a girl. He saddled right up next to Hermione, and threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Hermione could feel his breath tickling the top of her head as he started whispering to her.

"What do you have on under those clothes, hmm? Why you trying to hide that arse from us in those jeans? Don't you want our attention?"

Hermione bristled and immediately started wondering what on earth she had gotten herself into. However, she was here now, and trying to leave would only get her hurt. Better to play the game. So, with a deep breath, she leaned closer to the Harry/Ron guy, put her hand on his chest, and decided to whisper up at him all with a sly smile on her face.

"Oh, I want your attention. I promise. I just want to make sure that I get a name for the handsome man I decide to be under," in a spur of a moment decision, she looked over and winked at his friends, "or the men I decide to be between."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt terror flood through her body, but she forced herself to stay put. Running after what she just said just meant that they would brutally rape her. She would have to endure the trauma of a whip all over again, of that she had no doubt.

"Hey! She said she wants all three of us! Let's sure her how much we appreciate her eagerness!" the Harry/Ron man hollered to his friends. Then, he roughly grabbed her chin, pulled it so she was facing him and her head was tipping back, and leant in to kiss. Right before he did, he whispered "I'm Collin, and I can't wait to hear you scream my name while I fill you up."

Hermione's eyes widened, and she could not stop the whimper that escaped her. Collin, apparently, took her whimper as eagerness, and lowered the arm wrapped around her shoulders down to her ass. Hermione whimpered again, and then she heard Collin's friends cheer and their footsteps getting closer.

"Collin! Save some for us, you greedy bastard!"

At that, Collin pulled away from Hermione's mouth, but he kept his hand on her ass.

"You know… I think it only fair I get your name, since I gave you mine," Collin said with a smirk and a squeeze of her ass, causing Hermione to jump.

"Jean. My name's Jean." Hopefully, Hermione would keep her wits about her enough to respond to her middle name.

"That's my good girl." Collin beamed at her, and then looked to his friends. First, he pointed to the sandy-haired one, "That's Sam," then he gestured to the dashing brunet, "and that is Luke."

At that, Luke stepped forward and came to Hermione's other side, draping his arm across Hermione's shoulders the way Collin's had previously had. She expected Luke to be the one to speak, so she was halfway through turning her head to him when Sam spoke.

"Alright. Let's show this little lady some fun. Come on, Doll. We'll show you a real good time back at my place."

Hermione just smiled and tried to calm her stomach. She allowed herself to be escorted to their flat that they apparently all shared. Sam handed her a glass of wine, and then took it from her after she only had four sips. Before she truly registered what was happening, Sam's lips were locked over top of hers, his hand's tangling in her hair.

She could tell that he wanted her to make some kind of noise by the way he was pulling on her hair, so she moaned into his mouth and reached her arms up to grip the back of his shirt over his shoulders. Right after she did, she almost froze. She could feel one of the others against her back, moving her hair to the side, and starting to kiss her neck. She whimpered into Sam's mouth, which turned into a gasp, when she felt someone's hands move up to her chest underneath her jumper. She was instantly glad that she had just gone with a lace bralette, if only because she heard and felt the man behind her moan into her neck when he realized that he would be able to play with her nipples through her bra.

"Mmm, you just wanted your tits played with tonight, didn't you, my sweet little girl."

Hermione moaned and arched her back, thrusting her tits up higher as, what she now knew was Luke because of his voice, tweaked her nipples. Apparently, her moan and bodily reaction wasn't enough because the tweak turned into a savage pinch and twist, and he was snarling at her to answer him with her words.

"Yes. Yes." Hermione managed to whimper out. She was disgusted that she could feel herself getting wet from the rough treatment of her body, but she took note of it. Was she turned on by the roughness? Or was her body remembering the ordeal with Dolohov and trying to prepare her so she wasn't as injured?

She then felt her jumper being pulled up, and Sam nipped her bottom lip before pulling away to allow the offending garment to be taken off. She glanced around the room, and she saw Collin leaning against the counter, watching with a glass of scotch in his hand. When he caught her looking at him, he set down his glass and started walking towards her.

Luke stepped up to her and reached for the button of her jeans. The action was difficult due to the fact that Sam was sucking on her nipples, switching between the two, and Luke was at her back, kissing up and down her neck. And although Luke had been rough with her nipples to get a vocal response, all three of the men were now being fairly gentle with her, cherishing and worshipping her body other than just using it. The open-mouth kisses were turning her on, and as Collin pushed her jeans off her slender hips, she pushed her arse back against Luke's crotch. When Collin had completely removed Hermione's jeans, he stood up, grabbed her chin, and began roughly kissing her.

Hermione was overwhelmed. She could feel Luke's erection against her ass, and she couldn't help but to grind back against it. It almost felt like an instinct. Sam was still enjoying laving her nipples with his tongue before nipping them just hard enough to smart. The actions were frenzied, but they were not horrifying. They did not seem calculated to hurt her, not like Dolohov's had been the entire time he had held her captive.

Before she knew what truly was happening, she was being shuffled around. Hermione forced herself to take the steps. If she didn't move, would that be what triggered the violence? Were men inherently violent during sex or was it something about her that made men want to hurt her?

Hermione would start getting answers that night.

Around 2 A.M., Hermione awoke, her legs tangled in Luke's and her head on Collin's outstretched arm. She slowly disentangled herself from them and started looking around for all of her clothes. Honestly, she didn't care if she forgot something, she just wanted to make sure that she was outwardly presentable. If she didn't have any panties on, it didn't really matter. Luckily, she did find all of her undergarments. Then, she started working her way to the room that the night had started in. That would be where she found her jumper and jeans, and hopefully her shoes.

Unfortunately for her, though, her desire to get out undetected would fail because her shin promptly met a coffee table causing her to yelp. Sam stirred on the couch in the room having heard the bang of a run-in with the coffee table and then the girl's subsequent yelp. He looked up at her through the incredibly dim light and smirked.

"Off so soon, princess? Don't you want another round?" Sam gestured to his lap, which was clad only in briefs, and smirked up at her.

Hermione froze. She didn't want another round. She was sore. She hurt. She could feel the bruises on her hips from where they grabbed too roughly, forcing her to stay still as they double penetrated her. She had to think quickly.

"As… as lovely as that is… I should really"

Before Hermione could finish, Sam was next to her and grabbing her chin to force her to look up at him.

"That wasn't really a question, princess," Sam purred at her. "Can you be quiet for me? I don't want to share you. I want you all to myself. Moving just for me." Hermione shivered at his words and felt goose pimples rising up along her arms and legs. She also knew that her malnourished body could not fight, nor had she brought her wand, worried that it might get lost or broken.

"I… yes." Hermione cast her eyes downward. Hopefully, Sam would take that to mean that she would behave, and she wasn't a threat.

"Good girl." Hermione instantly bristled at those words. Dolohov might not have used those words exactly, but they still struck just as roughly as when Dolohov had given her orders. "Get naked again, then come over here and get on your knees. Collin and Luke hogged your throat tonight."

Hermione immediately complied, keeping her eyes on the ground. Once was she naked, she knelt between Sam's legs, leant forward, and opened her mouth.

"Look up at me." Hermione instantly obeyed, looking up at him. "Get my dick nice and wet, princess. You are going to sit on me with my dick up your arse. Do you understand?"

Hermione stared at him. It was one think to be roughly double penetrated. It was a completely other thing to have to willingly impale herself up the ass. At least this wasn't after a whipping.

Hermione decided she didn't have to verbalize her answer, so she leant forward again, and took Sam in her mouth. Dolohov had forced her into learning how to deepthroat, and after only a few seconds, she had Sam's cock seated deeply in her throat. Her throat immediately spasmed and tried to expel him, but she forced herself to continue. As she moved her head up and down just slightly on Sam's cock, she felt his hand grab her by her hair. She heard him tell her to keep her mouth open as wide as possible and stick out her tongue. Sam's next actions should have been expected, for he started thrusting his hips up into her, not caring that he was bruising both his pubic bone and her face with how hard he was thrusting.

Hermione tried to stay calm, but she was truly starting to panic. If she had marks on her face, she wouldn't be able to hide them from her parents. She was trying to dissociate by coming up with a plan when Sam yanked her head away and threw her back onto her arse.

"Alrighty then, princess. Seems you've gotten me nice and wet. Now let's see if we can stretch that asshole even more."

Hermione stumbled out of the apartment in the early dawn. If her father woke up before she got home with the car, there was going to be hell to pay. She was in such a daze that she was completely oblivious to the white fox that was sitting regally beside the car. She was so oblivious and just going through the motions that when she opened the boot of the car to throw her shoes and bag into it, she didn't notice the fox leap into it.

Hermione arrived home just before her parents were set to wake up, and she debated whether or not to get her stuff from the boot. She ultimately decided to and slapped a hand over her mouth to cover her scream when she finally noticed the white fox.

Hermione was completely frozen in place. Her mind was reeling with what Sam had made her do. She felt more violated than when Dolohov had tortured her. She had chosen to do those things. She could have walked away. She didn't have to go out. She didn't have to do this bloody experiment. But, she had. She had done it, and for once in her life, doing research had done her dirty, quite literally.

When the fox just tipped her head to the side, for Hermione decided that it must be a female, Hermione slowly lowered her hand from her mouth.

"Hi there… can… can you get out of the car… please?" Hermione stammered out. Why was she talking to a fox? Because she had put herself in an awful situation, and it had just gotten worse. Maybe it was because she believed that everything had its own mind and personality, but honestly, she just wanted to know if a beautiful fox would attack her just like every male she had come across recently.

Well… not every male. Her two best friends hadn't hurt her. Surprisingly, Malfoy and Nott hadn't tried to hurt her either. If she had read the situation right, they were horrified about what happened to her. Maybe she should reach out to one of them… She didn't have an owl, though, and under no circumstances was she going to use Hedwig or Errol to send a letter to a Slytherin.

The fox put her paws on the edge of the boot and yipped at Hermione, which made the girl jump.

"You are beautiful…" Hermione sighed. She wished that she could be as beautiful and regal as the fox, but she was apparently just made to be abused. Not for the first time, she raged against Malfoy for saving her from jumping off the Express. What kind of existence was facing abuse every single day?

Hermione gestured to the fox to get out of the boot. She really wanted to shower and go to bed. The fox must have understood, for she leaped down out of the car and sauntered off towards the backyard without another glance. Hermione half wondered if she would wake up soon from this nightmare and strange dream. She had been coerced into doing awful things with those men, and then a fox had gotten in the car without her even realizing. She grabbed her stuff and headed inside to take a shower. As soon as she laid down on her bed with her hair still dripping, she was fast asleep.

Hermione's parents checked on her before they left for their practice and saw their daughter sprawled on her bed in nothing but a towel. Mrs. Granger stepped into the room to put a blanket around her daughter and brushed a semi-dry curl out of her face. She tried to grimace at the obvious bruises that were starting to appear on her daughter's jaw and neck. She didn't know what Hermione was up to or what had happened, but she had a feeling that Harry would send somebody to check on her soon, if he didn't come himself. She just hoped that it would be sooner rather than later. If Hermione didn't start eating soon, she was worried that her daughter would slip into a coma.


	15. Starting to Heal

**Hermione's healing is her own. My therapists have always told me that healing in anyway is healthy. I used to scratch my skin open during flashbacks or while in situations that made me anxious. Now, I snap a hair tie against my wrist. I still break skin occasionally, but not as quickly. It is still self-harm. **

**Reach out to a sexual assault hotline if you are struggling. We are not alone. Reach out to me if you need to talk. My DMs are a safe space.**

* * *

Hermione slept the rest of the day. In her sleep, the bruises bloomed across her neck into the shape of fingers. Her hips were a mass of bruises so varying in color that the men had grabbed her so roughly and so many times was extraordinarily obvious. The inside of her lips were bruised, and her lips themselves were swollen from the brutal treatment she had received. Her chin also sported a bruise itself from when Sam had grabbed her to inform her that the final round was not an option.

Around 3 in the afternoon, Hermione began to slowly wake. She kept her eyes shut, though. If she didn't open her eyes, maybe she could pretend that everything that had happened was a lie. As she moved to pull the blanket tighter around her, though, she knew that she couldn't ignore the truth of what had happened. Her entire body screamed in agony. It even hurt to swallow due to the rough face fucking that Sam had forced on her. Her hips ached something fierce, and that wasn't even mentioning the pain that her vagina and arsehole were in.

Although her attempt at research had failed miserably, she did think she had one answer: most men were predisposed to violence against women. The men in her life that had not hurt her were outliers to the norm. Yes, Dolohov and Crabbe were Death Eaters, but they still hurt her. Well, Crabbe not so much, but he would have if given the time. Sam, Collin, and Luke were not in any gang or dark association from what she could tell. To be honest, they just seemed like college socialites, and they had taken what they wanted from her body without a care in the world that there was someone actually living in her body. Therefore, men were predisposed to violence against women. The thought made her pause, though. Was it all women that men treated as holes to fill, or was it women who portrayed themselves as strong or who were intelligent? She honestly couldn't decide.

Hermione's stomach grumbled and hurt out of hunger for the first time in weeks. Hermione knew that she had lost a lot of weight. She would be an idiot to not have noticed that. Well, her pre-Dolohov self would have argued that she was an idiot for not eating, but that wasn't the point. Maybe she would actually eat whatever her dad tried to give her that night. Hopefully, it was something light. She honestly didn't think she could keep anything more down since she hadn't really been eating.

Hermione rolled to the edge of the bed and winced as she pushed herself up to a sitting position. She slowly raised her eyes to look at her nude body in the mirror across from her bed. Who she saw in the mirror barely looked like herself. A few of her lower ribs poked out and housed bruises of their own from the rough treatment of the night before. Her hip bones peaked over her abdomen and were sickening to look at because of the bruises. Her neck almost looked painted due to the bruising. As she stood up to cross to her wardrobe, she made the executive decision to not look at her backside. She did not want to see the bruises that coved her there. She reached into her wardrobe and found an oversized Disney t-shirt. She pulled that on over her head and grimaced at how huge it was on her. The shirt had always been large, but now she seemed to drown in it. Either way, she rummaged and found a pair of old underwear, smaller than the size she had worn for the past year. She also found a pair of workout shorts that she wore the summer after third year. When she slid those on and they fit almost loosely, she began to realize that she hadn't just had a slight appetite decrease, she was truly not consuming anything. She almost felt guilt for the worry her parents must be feeling, but all she felt was shame for what Dolohov had done to her and what she had done to herself the night before.

Hermione slowly walked across the hall to her bathroom and filled a glass with water. As soon as the first droplet hit her tongue, she realized how thirsty she truly was. Though it hurt to swallow, she all but inhaled the water. As she began to fill up her glass a second time, her stomach started to revolt. She dropped the glass into the sink, momentarily glad to see that it didn't shatter, and placed a hand over her mouth. Hermione continued to slowly swallow and shake her head back and forth. She didn't want to throw up. She had hated the sensation ever since she was a child. She stayed this way, covering her mouth and hunched over her sink for almost 30 minutes. Finally, her stomach began to settle, and she left the bathroom to take up her regular position of sitting in her backyard staring into the trees.

An hour or so later, Hermione watched as an owl swooped down to land in front of her. She did register that the owl didn't seem to have a letter or anything at all to give her, he just sat there and tilted his head from side to side. She swore that she recognized the black-banded owl, but she couldn't place it. He had to be a magical owl, for he seemed to know her and was glad to have found his mark.

Slowly, the owl approached her. Hermione was surprised to feel the soft feathers of his head against the palm of her hand, for she did not remember lifting her hand towards the bird. The bird looked at her sorrowfully, as if he understood what the bruises all over her body were from. Looking into his onyx eyes, Hermione could not stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. The fleeting thought that her body shouldn't be physically capable of producing tears due to her extreme malnutrition passed through her head. The owl's hoot drew her attention out of her thoughts. He hopped onto her legs, which were folded underneath her, but he stepped lightly and miraculously placed his feet in some of the only spots that were not littered with bruising. He pecked gently at her upper arm, not catching her skin but capturing her shirt in his beak and pulled. It took Hermione's addled brain to register what he was doing and why, but when she lightly wrapped her arm around the bird, he released her shirt and _who_'d up at her.

Hermione's parents came home around 7 PM as they usually did. Some of their peers thought the Granger's insane for keeping their practice open so late, but they maintained that until they didn't have patients that valued their after-work appointments, they would keep the practice open late.

"Dear," Mrs. Granger whispered over her shoulder as they entered the house, "Do you think an owl will come soon? We just need an owl to send a letter to Harry. He can help, I know he can. We just don't have anyway to reach him. What if it is too late?" Mrs. Granger was starting to speak faster, though she still kept her voice hushed. "What if she has done permanent damage to her organs? What if she needs a transplant of some kind? What if she kills herself before we…"

Mr. Granger rushed forward and cupped his wife's face in his hands and leaning his forehead against hers.

"Breathe, love. Just breathe. I truly believe that she has not done permanent damage to her body in less than six months. Remember," Mr. Granger tipped her face up so he could look in her eyes, "She wasn't sick at Easter. She was fine. So, all of this, all of the weight loss, it has happened in the last three or four months."

Mrs. Granger nodded her head in her husband's hands and brought one of her hands up to hold his hand as she nuzzled her face into it. She did so briefly, and then wiped the tears from her eyes to go watch her daughter through the kitchen window like she did almost every day. She glanced without really seeing at first as she reached for a glass to fill with some water. Once she placed the glass under the faucet and turned on the water, she took stock of her daughter. From the window, she could see Hermione's vertebrae as she curled in on herself. Mrs. Granger couldn't help but to see the discoloration on Hermione's arms and legs. As she stared at her seemingly broken daughter, she noticed that Hermione was holding something to her chest.

"WENDELL!" Mrs. Granger's voice echoed through the house, as did the clanking of her glass as it fell into the sink. Mr. Granger's footsteps sounded as he rushed towards his wife.

"Mon! Mon, what happened!?" He rushed out as he gripped his wife's arms and tried to find the source of her scream. It dawned on him in horror that something might have happened to Hermione. Just as he began to turn his head, his wife spoke in an elated gasp.

"She has an owl. Wendell, we can talk to Harry. We can send him our letter." Mrs. Granger threw her arms around her husband's shoulders. "We can get our little girl the help she needs."

Mr. Granger wrapped his arms around his sobbing wife and stared out at their daughter. His grip tightened as he saw the bruises covering her body. He knew he couldn't go out screaming, demanding explanations for the wounds covering his precious daughter's body, but it took everything in him to not do just that. His daughter was very obviously getting abused.

"Mon… I'm going to go talk to her," Mr. Granger moved his hands to lightly grip his wife's shoulders and pushed her gently away from him. "I want to see if I recognize the owl."

His wife simply nodded and collapsed her hands over her chest as she watched her husband go out to their daughter.

Mr. Granger slowly approached his daughter for he knew that she was easily startled now, and the beating she had apparently taken would not help matters.

"Hermione… Hermione, love?" Mr. Granger gently said as he walked up to be directly on her right. "Hermione? Will you eat today, love? Please… Not a lot. Just some calories. Please?"

Mr. Granger walked a few more steps forwards before stopping. He never sat in front of her during the times he would try to talk to her or just keep her company. He always tried to sit on her right side and fully within her peripheral vision.

He tried to hide his surprise when he saw her eyes come into focus and her head turned towards him. He couldn't stifle the gasp of horror that escaped his mouth when he clearly saw her bruised lips and the various bands of bruises across her neck. He also couldn't stop the automatic jerk towards her. As soon as his mind registered her flinch away from him following his jerking motion, his entire body stilled. All he wanted to do was hold his little girl, but she was clearly petrified of everything. He was glad to see some form of emotion on her face, however, since the last month had been nothing but blank stares. He looked down at the owl as Hermione's face dropped to the top of the bird's head.

"Hermione, whose owl is this?" Mr. Granger was frustrated. He had never in his life seen this bird before. Hermione had told him that all wizarding owls could find any wizard in their human form, but he just could not accept that. There was no way a bird was that intelligent. What if the witch or wizard moved every few weeks, would the owl still deliver the mail quickly and accurately?

Mr. Granger sighed when he saw Hermione shrug in answer to his question. He glanced around for any sign of paper. It didn't make sense that there would be an owl but no mail to speak of. It especially didn't make sense if Hermione didn't even know who the bird belonged to. Because Mr. Granger was thinking so much about whose owl was in his daughter's arms, he almost missed her weak whisper.

"Can I have a smoothie?" Hermione finally found the courage to talk. When her dad didn't answer her immediately, she felt like an imposition and a bother. "It's fine if 'no.' I don't want to bother anyone." She paused for barely a second. "I'm sorry. I'm not a good girl. I don't listen. Daddy, I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me, daddy. I'm so sorry." Hermione broke down into sobs.

Mr. Granger couldn't stay still any longer at the sounds of his daughter's sobs and apologies. He rushed forward and pulled Hermione, and the owl due to her grip on the bird, to his chest.

"Shh love. Of course, you can have a smoothie. You just caught me off guard." Mr. Granger started playing with her curls like he always had when she was little and upset. "I'm not mad. I was just surprised. I'm sure your mother would love to make you a smoothie. Heck, I would love to make you a smoothie, but I know you think I make mine taste too healthy. I'll never hurt you, love. Never. Let's go inside."

Mr. Granger began to stand up, trailing his hand down her curls one last time, making sure to not let his fingers catch any strands. Hermione sniffed, trying to get herself under control. She logically knew that her dad would never hurt her, but she couldn't help her emotional response. As it was, Hermione tucked her legs under her, and with a tightening grip on the owl, she began to stand. After not eating for weeks, her body was incredibly shaky. After not moving for her hours, her body just simply didn't want to corporate with her wants. She tried not to flinch away or suffocate the owl when she felt her dad's hand on the curve of her elbow as she turned back to face the house. She could see her mum crying at the window. She attempted to swallow, but her mouth was so dry, she was physically incapable of the action.

"Let's go get you that smoothie, love." Mr. Granger softly stated as his hand silently encouraged Hermione to walk towards the house.

It took a good ten minutes for Mr. Granger and Hermione to reach their back door, but once there, she hesitated and looked down at the owl. He seemed content to stay with her, but she couldn't help but to wonder if his owner was missing him.

"Let's get him some berries, hmm?" Mr. Granger coaxed after seeing Hermione's gaze on the owl. She simply nodded and then stepped into their house.

Mrs. Granger's self-control was put to the test when Hermione walked into the house. Weeks had gone by since the last time she had gotten to see her daughter do anything other than sit in their yard in silence. She didn't want to startle Hermione, though, so she simply looked lovingly at her daughter and husband.

"Hermione here has decided she wants one of your famous smoothies, Mon." Mr. Granger said joyfully. He internally cringed at the tone of his voice. He was going for cheerful but subdued. Instead, he came off as a poorly rehearsed movie actor or a game show host. He looked at his wife and implored her for help with his eyes.

"Alrighty then," Mrs. Granger slowly said, "What kind of smoothie love? Do you want a berry one? Strawberry banana?" Mrs. Granger moved to the freezer and started rifling through the small bags of frozen fruit.

"Whatever you want to make, mum." Hermione said, barely loud enough for everyone to hear. She was already getting weak from the walk in, carrying the owl, and standing in the kitchen. "I'm going to go sit down." She looked down at the owl and gave it a look, all but saying out loud that she was going to let him go.

She made her way to their couch and plopped down onto. As soon as she was sitting, she unfurled her arms from around the bird and let her body sink into the couch. The owl hooted at her from her lap and then flew up to perch on the back of the couch by her head, almost as if he could protect her brain from bad thoughts.

When Mrs. Granger brought in Hermione's smoothie, well, she had technically changed the smoothie into a milkshake because ice cream was more fattening, she couldn't help the sad smile that graced her face. Hermione looked so peaceful, with her head tipped back against the couch and her legs criss-crossed in front of her. The black owl gave a sense of eerie peacefulness to the whole scene. Mrs. Granger just hoped that the bird would separate from Hermione so that he could take the letter to Harry.

"Here you are, love. I made your favorite. I added something special to it this time though." Mrs. Granger was shocked to see her daughters face morph into a scathing look. "Don….Don't give me that look. I made it with ice cream."

Hermione slowly took the smoothie… well, she supposed it was a milkshake now… from her mum. She took a sip and was pleased to learn that it truly was her favorite smoothie, strawberry and blueberry. She grimaced down at the cup, though. Her mum had made her a huge milkshake. There was no way she could drink all of it. Mrs. Granger must have seen the daunting look that flashed over Hermione's face, for it wasn't long before she spoke.

"You don't have to drink it all, love. Just some of it." Hermione seemed to register her words, but still stared at the cup with a bit of horror. "Maybe just a quarter of it? And then we can put it in the freezer for later. How about that?"

Hermione nodded and took another sip from the glass. Mrs. Granger tried to hold back the tears forming in her eyes when she saw Hermione swallow and grimace as her stomach seemed to revolt. Hermione hid it will, but it was clear that the owl was magical when he started whoing softly and hopped down to stand next to Hermione. Any time Hermione would take a sip, the owl would nuzzle against her arm in encouragement and comfort.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Granger had left the sitting room to eat dinner with Wendell. She had to let Hermione eat and drink on her own terms, she couldn't just shadow her daughter. That would just make everything worse she felt.

After eating, Mr. and Mrs. Granger slipped back into the sitting room. They saw Hermione curled up against the armrest of the couch and sound asleep. The owl remained there, perched by Hermione's head and looking down at her. The Grangers swore that the owl had a look of sorrow on its face.

Mr. Granger stepped forward and slowly placed an afghan over Hermione's small frame. How she was not freezing for lack of fat on her body was beyond him. Perhaps her body was simply too malnourished to stay awake despite the cold. He was pulled from his thoughts as the owl flapped his great wings and moved to the back of a chair.

"Wendell… look. He's holding out his leg. He… we can…" Mrs. Granger was growing panicky with hope. Her body couldn't believe that they would actually be able to get help for their girl.

"Mon… calm down. I know. I see. Go get the letter."

Mrs. Granger scurried off and returned in less than a minute, huffing slightly from the mad dash she had made up the stairs to grab the letter from their nightstand. Mr. Granger took the letter and string and reached towards the owl to attach it to his offered leg.

"Do you know Harry Potter?" The owl who-ed in response. "Take this letter to him. Get our daughter help." When the owl bobbed his head in response, Mr. Granger went to their back door and opened it. The owl quickly took off through it and into the night.

"Wendell…"

"I know, Mon. Help is coming."

Mr. and Mrs. Granger stood in their back door and watched the owl disappear into the night. They stood there, arms around each other, long after the bird had disappeared from view.

* * *

Feroce flew into his master's new bedroom and started making a ruckus. His master had explained that the witch he was looking for would not be healthy, but his master had not said that the girl would be all but dying. If she continued on her path, the girl would be dead. Feroce did not care that his master was sound asleep. It was of upmost important for his master to read the letter attached to him. Part of him felt shame for shirking his duties and not taking the letter to the person he was told to. But he didn't know if that person would help. He knew his master would.

His master grumbled into his pillow, and Feroce knew that he would have to work harder to get his master up.

Feroce started who-ing loudly and landed roughly on his master's back. When his master grumbled some more and went to push Feroce away, Feroce bit his hand and then pulled the covers away. His master was waking up, whether or not he wanted to.

When his master still wasn't grasping the situation, Feroce had no choice but to attack his master's head.

"Oi! Feroce! What the bloody hell!?" His master's face then dawned in understanding. "Feroce… Feroce!" His master looked down at Feroce's feet and saw the letter attached. Then, he saw that the letter was addressed to none other than Harry Potter. "Oh… You brilliant bird, you."

In mere seconds, Feroce was devoid of his letter and his master was running out of his suite and down the hall.

"Draco! Narcissa!" Feroce heard his master banging on a door. "Feroce brought a letter!" After a small pause Feroce heard, "Wake up, you git. We can help her!"

Feroce flew off back through the window. His job of delivering the letter was done for now. He would wait until midday to see if he was to return a letter to the girl's parents, but he would return to her and watch over her. He seemed to have brought some form of comfort to her.


	16. Reaching Out For Help

**Please go follow/add my Facebook page, LiterarianRose FanFic. It means a lot to me. Thank you Starryar for helping me perfect the letter. **

**I want to acknowledge that I know this story is INCREDIBLY rough for a lot of us. It is rough for me to revisit and write. With that said, I also think it is important for survivors to have a voice, and this is how I am using mine. By giving survivors a fictional story with a strong female who experiences bad things that ends well. **

**I hesitate to say HEA because the aftermath of rape is lifelong. Hermione DOES heal, though. Those are the kind of stories that I need when they involve rape, so that is the kind of story I am writing. **

**Please jump in my DMs on here or Facebook if this triggers you and you need someone to talk to. In the USA, RAINN is the network that has a free helpline. In the UK, RASASC is the national network with a free helpline.**

**May we all find freedom from our abusers and healing on the path of life.**

* * *

Narcissa heard Theodore yelling and was out of bed in a flash. She grabbed her night robe and apparated to Draco's personal library. While it would have only been a bit slower to have walked there, she needed to know what the letter said as soon as possible. She had spent the day in a blind panic in regards to Hermione Granger. Neither of the boys knew that she had went out to shadow the girl in her animagus form. In fact, she wasn't sure either of them even knew she was an animagus. She was registered, of course, but she so seldomly had cause for changing that she didn't spread the news far and wide. Purebloods were private by nature, and she enjoyed having this secret from everyone in the world.

Narcissa's stomach churned as she sat down on one of the ornate chairs that Draco had chosen for his rooms. She was truly fond of the rich colors her son had such a proclivity for. Her mind could not be distracted from her thoughts, though. Within the hour of Hermione's ill-fated research night, the bruises had been apparent around her neck and were starting to show on the girl's face. In her fox form, Narcissa could smell the men on Hermione, and her heart broke for the girl that Dolohov had tortured. As she sat there, remembering the look of defeat on Hermione's face, she could not wait any longer for her son and Theodore to enter the library.

"Draco! Theodore! Please get in here this instant." Narcissa's voice was steady and clip, showing no signs of the anxiety rushing through her body. "If you honestly think I didn't hear Feroce or you, Theodore, you are sorely mistaken. I insist that you get in here, so that we may all make a plan to help Miss Granger." Narcissa paused as the door to Draco's library opened and she saw her son, disheveled hair and all, and Theodore, who had some slightly bleeding cuts on his face and arms. "I assume that is what all this ruckus is about, after all." With a flick of her wrist, the sconces were lit. "Come sit down so we can read this letter."

Draco humphed in annoyance. He was never one to take orders well, and upon waking only shortly after going to bed, Draco was similar to an insulted Hippogriff. Narcissa stayed seated and held out her hand. Theodore placed it in her hand.

"Feroce brought it here, but…" Theo started to state. Narcissa took one look at the front of the envelope and gasped.

"Your owl denied a directive for the letter! Theodore! You must really train your owl better than this. Feroce should know better!"

"Mother, this is _not_ the time for such antics." Draco slumped down onto the couch. He was worried sick about Granger, but if he let his body tighten in anxiety for one more minute, he was scared that he was going to break a bone. "Feroce did what he thought best, which is to bring it to his master. If he denied a directive, he did so because of the situation he was in all day. You do know that Theo here sent Feroce to watch over Hermione all day, don't you?"

Narcissa tried her best not to glower at her son. She knew he was right regarding Feroce, but her upbringing did not allow her such graces. Her father would have killed the bird on principle.

"Yes, yes. I'm well aware of where Feroce was all day." Narcissa looked down at the letter and took a breath to steady her voice. "Let us see how Miss Granger is faring, shall we?"

With that, she sliced upon the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.

"_Dear Harry,_

_We hope this letter finds you in good health and that you are having as good a summer as possible. We were wondering if you and Hermione have had a falling out, as we have noticed that she is refusing Hedwig and Erroll? _

Draco! I really must insist that you not roll your eyes at the proper etiquette of asking for help. The letter continues…

_If not, perhaps you could help us—the Hermione that returned at the end of the year appears to be very different than she usually is. She is always a bit run down after the year's end due to her academic drive, but she is usually recovered by now. This year, something is different. Not only is she refusing owls, she is only speaking to us to refuse food. She must be keeping up with her fluids though, as she still remains conscious and capable of movement, but she has lost so much weight in such a short period of time." _

Narcissa's voice faded off in an attempt to control a sob. She had seen the girl at the station. She should have taken her then and paid the price later. It was a testament to Hermione's strength that she was still breathing, let alone functioning on some basic level. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to find Theodore standing beside her with tears in his eyes. She hadn't seen the boy cry since he had lost his mother, and it pulled at her heartstrings to see him so emotional again.

"Mother…" Her eyes moved to Draco and saw that he had sat up and buried his head in his hands, his fingers threaded through his hair and twisting. "Continue… please."

Narcissa took a steadying breath and fortified herself for the rest of the letter. If this had been written this evening, it would mention the bruising that Hermione was currently sporting. She did not want to read her parent's description of the abuse, and she was sure that neither Draco nor Theodore wanted to hear more about her abuse. She still had not worked up the nerve to ask for any details that they might have gleaned on the train.

"_We hope that you can help us understand or give us direction in how to help her. Perhaps she has contracted a magical illness? We have been reluctant to bring her to our regular doctor if this happens to be the case. They would just force her into a program."_

Narcissa took another deep breath as a plan started to form in her head.

"_If you have not had a falling out, we think it would do much good for Hermione to see a friend, unless you think it best to send for a professor?_

_We are very worried for our daughter. _

_With love and great concern, _

_Dr. Wendell and Monica Granger" _

The room fell into silence after Narcissa read the closing. Theodore dropped his hand to the back of Narcissa's chair, which he had taken to standing behind so that he could read over her shoulder. He was all but frozen. Narcissa slowly placed the letter into her lap and raised her head to look at her son, who was now pacing around the room.

"Draco… my dear, we can…" before Narcissa could finish, the sound a vase shattering against a wall echoed through the room.

"Oh, yes, Mother. Tell me. What can we possibly do!? She is refusing _food_!" Draco went to pick up a small statue of a dragon, but it was whisked out of his reach by his mother's nonverbal spell. He turned instead and tried to send his fist through his wall. "How in the bloody _hell_ are we supposed to help her."

"Draco! If you would stop destroying your rooms, I would tell you." Narcissa snapped her fingers and a small elf appeared at her side, "Tilly, we are in need of tea, you know how we each take ours, and parchment and ink. Do see if you can get that owl of Theodore's to come inside. We are in need of his services as well."

Theo and Draco looked at each other. Theo's eyes were wet with unshed tears, and Draco looked as if he had the conviction to cast the killing curse for the first time in his life.

"Mrs. Malfoy, how we are going to help her? They are expecting help from Potter or The Weasleys, not us. She won't accept our help."

"Don't be so quick to assume things, Theodore. But I need both of you to sit down before I tell you my plan. And Theodore, I do hope that you are up to writing a letter tonight."

* * *

The Dr. Grangers had decided to not move their daughter from the couch. They lifted her head and gently tucked a pillow under it before tucking an afghan tightly around her small body. After a moment of hesitation, Mrs. Granger tucked another blanket around her daughter. They then retired to their bedroom, hoping that they would hear from Harry soon.

As it was, they were awoken at four in the morning to rough tapping upon their bedroom window. The first thought to flash through both of their heads was that they were getting robbed, but then, as the fog of sleep cleared from their heads, they realized that an owl was tapping viscously at their window.

"Wendell! It has to be from Harry!" Mrs. Granger started pushing her husband out of the bed. "Hurry up!"

"I'm going, I'm going, Mon." Mr. Granger tossed the blankets off his legs and walked to the window, pulling the curtains apart and going to open the window. "Huh, I wonder why he didn't use Hedwig?"

"Wendell, _now _is _not_ the time to wonder about his choice of owl." Mrs. Granger had also gotten out of bed and come to stand beside her husband. "What does the letter say?"

"If you would give me a second to open the letter, I could tell you."

Mrs. Granger huffed and tore the letter from his hand before marching over to their light switch.

"_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger,_

_Unfortunately, I must keep this short as this owl seems intent on a speedy reply, and Hedwig does not much appreciate her territory being taken up by another owl. _

_I have no idea what is going on with Hermione, but your letter concerns me. I'll send a letter to McGonagall, I wouldn't be surprised if her, the school nurse, or another medi-witch show up within a few days. Hermione could probably solve the problem in an hour if she felt well, but since she doesn't… _

_Alright, this owl is getting really snipy about the length of time this taking. _

_Expect help soon, _

_Harry Potter" _

"Wendell…" Mrs. Granger whispered into the air of their room. "Help is coming. Our little girl is going to get help."

Mr. Granger pulled his wife into his chest and kissed her head.

"Hopefully, Harry is right, and help comes tomorrow."

Both of them were startled when they heard the owl start tapping on their bedroom door.

"It seems our Hermione has a guardian, now." Mr. Granger whispered with a chuckle as he went to open the door. As soon as he did, Feroce flew out of it in search of Hermione.

"Let's go to sleep, Mon. Help will be here tomorrow."

* * *

**I know this is a bit shorter than some of the other chapters, but I need the next few scenes to be together. It just makes more sense for them to be in the next chapter. **

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